


Stranger Things Have Happened

by la_muerta



Series: Stranger And Stranger Still [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Role Reversal, Shadowhunter Magnus Bane, Slow Burn, Switch!AU Malec, Warlock Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 50,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_muerta/pseuds/la_muerta
Summary: "Wait, did you say we're going to a party?" Magnus perked up immediately. "Where? When?"Catarina scowled at him. "If you had been paying any attention to me at all..."***Simon Lewis has had his memories stolen from him, and his new "friends" Magnus, Catarina, Raphael and Ragnor have agreed to corner the warlock responsible for it and demand that the spell be undone. For that, they are going to have to crash a party held by said warlock - the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alec Lightwood.Wait, what?Or, that AU where Magnus is the shadowhunter and Alec is the warlock.





	1. Chapter 1

"Wait, did you say we're going to a party?" Magnus perked up immediately. "Where? When?" 

 Catarina scowled at him. "If you had been paying any attention to me at all..."

"Well, you have my undivided attention now, darling," Magnus fluttered his eyelashes at her, resting his chin on a palm. "Anyway, you really should have led with that bit of information, instead of all that boring stuff about missions and objectives."

Catarina shot him an unimpressed look. "As I was saying," she said with forced patience, "we've had some intel that the High Warlock of Brooklyn is holding a party at his lair tonight, at midnight. Since Raphael managed to bully a vampire into handing over an invitation at the club last night, this is our best chance to speak with the warlock and find out if he can help Simon retrieve his memories."

" _Tonight_? That's barely four hours left for me to get my hair and make-up done, and I can't possibly be wearing _this_ to a downworld rave!" Magnus yelped, leaping out of his seat. He was halfway across the command centre before Catarina could even say another word, presumably headed to his room to get ready for the party.

"By the Angel," Catarina growled, closing her eyes and rubbing her temple. She could feel a headache coming on; trying to get Magnus, Raphael and Ragnor to work together for a mission was like herding cats. "He is going to be the  _death_ of me."

"So... we're still going, right?" Simon asked nervously. He glanced at Raphael for assurance, but Raphael was twirling his stele like a baton, looking bored and supremely disinterested in the whole thing.

Simon wondered why this was his life now. Three days ago, he had been a normal boy, just hanging out with his best friend Clary at the all-ages club Pandemonium. Then he had seen a group of people nobody else could see, seen them stab another person with a glowing blade, and then watched in disbelief as the body vanished into thin air. 

It had all gone down hill from there.  

Simon had gone home to find his home ransacked and his mother gone. Worse, there had been something lying in wait for him - some sort of monster that had looked like a cross between an alligator and a centipede, and the _thing_ had spoken to him, muttering something about a cup. He had thrown a couple of things at it to slow it down, but in the end it had been Raphael who had swooped in to save him like a knight in shining armour, but not before the monster had got him with its stinger. He had spent three days in a delirious haze of pain, and woken up in what his new "friends" called the New York Institute - some sort of regional headquarters for demon hunters. And then he'd been told that apparently he was _one of them_ , something called a Shadowhunter, because Raphael had had to put some weird tattoo on him to stop him from bleeding out. They had called in some creepy-ass dude with his eyes and mouth sewn up to prod at his mind, and he had been told that he couldn't remember anything because someone had put a magical block on his mind - someone called Alec Lightwood, who had also put his damned signature on his spellwork, and who just happened to be the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Now the plan was to corner the powerful warlock in his own home and demand that he undo his spellwork on Simon's mind so they could even begin to figure out how to save his mother. Obviously this was the kind of plan where everything that could possibly go wrong would go wrong.

And now, for someone who had stalked him home from a club, saved his ass, and then practically dragged him into what was apparently an abandoned church outfitted with tech that put Star Trek to shame, Raphael was behaving as if Simon was something nasty he had accidentally stepped in.

"Don't worry, Simon," Catarina said, smiling warmly at him. "I know you're worried about your mother. We'll work on getting your memories back first, and take it from there. One step at a time, ok?" 

"Yeah, one step at a time, sounds good," Simon nodded. "Except that apparently I've already been unconscious for three days while your creepy monk-doctor guy poked at me, so my mother has been missing for _three whole days_ , and I just spoke to Clary on the phone and Clary says the police came by but someone came back and _bleached_ the the whole apartment or something so they don't have a single clue to go on and Clary is freaking out, I can't seem to get Rebecca on the phone, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but-"

" _Dios_ , do you never shut up?" Raphael exploded. 

"You're the one who brought him here," Ragnor snickered, his nose in a novel.

Raphael glared at Ragnor and stood up. "I'm sorry, Catarina, but if we're done here, I wanted to get some training in."

"Sure," Catarina muttered tiredly as Raphael stalked off. "It's not like I didn't just waste half an hour of my life on a briefing nobody was even listening to." 

Simon adjusted his glasses nervously. "I was listening," he offered timidly. Catarina gave him a small smile. 

"I assure you, I was listening as well," Ragnor declared, carefully slotting a bookmark in his book.

"Did I do something to piss Raphael off?" Simon asked. "It's just that... well... he hasn't really been very friendly."

"Oh, don't worry about Raphael, it's just his natural sunny disposition," Ragnor grinned. "He feels a bit responsible for you, but he hates people on principle - it's a constant struggle." He patted Simon on his shoulder and strolled off. Catarina sighed and began gathering up stray pencils and note paper.

"Why don't you go get some rest?" Catarina said kindly as she picked up after the three boys. "Demon venom is hard on the body, and you don't have any runes yet. We've got a long night ahead."

"I... ok. Thanks," Simon nodded. "Um... I don't have anything to wear to this party though."

"Go to Magnus - he'll be happy to help," Catarina grimaced. "On second thought, you might not want his help."

Simon laughed a little at that and jogged off to find Magnus.

 

Simon's first impression of Magnus' room was that a rainbow glitter bomb had gone off. Every available surface was covered with clothing - and most of them featured sequins, glitter, shiny thread, or all of the above.

Magnus, who had flung open the door at Simon's knocking, was staring at Simon like he had never seen him in his life. Simon gulped, feeling rather intimidated by the shadowhunter, who was half a head taller than him and was looming rather threateningly in the doorway. He had on a sheer burgundy shirt, unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal a wide array of necklaces that gleamed against the warm tone of Magnus' skin.

"Who are you?" Magnus frowned.

"Simon...?"

"Wrong room, my name is Magnus," Magnus was already closing the door in Simon's face.

"No, no, I mean _I'm_ Simon. Um, I was sitting next to you like, ten minutes ago, when Catarina was talking about the mission tonight?"

"Oh," Magnus blinked. "Sorry, I'm afraid I didn't see you there at all. I was busy doing my nails."

"Yeah, I noticed," Simon muttered. "Sorry to bother you, but I don't really have anything to wear to the party and I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb - I mean, stick out more than I already do, so Catarina said I could probably borrow something from you. But if you're busy, I could just... go."

Magnus had zoned out a bit at Simon's verbal diarrhoea, but stepped back from the doorway and waved Simon in. Simon tried not to step on Magnus' things, which was no easy feat because the carpet was barely visible through the mess of clothes and jewellery. An overladen dresser teetered in one corner of the room, covered with an array of cosmetics. 

"Here," Magnus shoved a pile of things at Simon. "These shrunk in the wash because Raphael was being mean and dumped them in the washing machine when it was his turn to do the laundry, even though I specifically told him not to."

Simon gulped at the glittery fabric in his arms. His eyes darted around the room and back at Magnus. "Thanks. Uh, where do I...?"

Magnus rolled his eyes. He was already shrugging off the shirt he was wearing to try on a different one. "I'm not going to steal your virtue, Sheldon."

"No, I didn't mean that, I just..." Simon said, flustered. He wasn't a prude, he really wasn't. But Magnus was built in a way that was seriously giving his self-esteem a thorough beating. His biceps alone looked like they were thicker than Simon's thighs. 

" _Fine_. Bathroom's that way," Magnus huffed. Simon escaped.

 

Two hours later, they were making their way to the Subway, oddly unobtrusive even though the shadowhunters were all heavily tattooed. This was New York on a Friday night, after all. They were mostly dressed in black, and Simon tugged nervously at the hem of the shirt he had borrowed from Magnus - it was a tad too tight, and to his horror he had only just realised that it was slightly see-through. Magnus, on the other hand, was decked out in skin-tight red leather pants, matching shoes, and a black silk waistcoat that Magnus wore without a shirt presumably because it did amazing things for his arms and shoulders. Magnus was wearing a thigh holster with the handle of a weapon Simon didn't recognise peeking out, barely visible.

Simon knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself - he thought of himself as mostly straight, but he wasn't _blind_.

"See something you like?" Magnus smirked at him. Simon thought it was unfair that he'd been singled out in his staring. After all, Catarina was Magnus' friend and had probably seen him in more outlandish outfits, and she had been staring at him all evening.

"Magnus, what in heaven's name have you done to your eyes!?" Catarina finally snapped.

"Relax, Catarina. They're just contacts, see?" Magnus popped one out deftly and popped it back in. 

"Cat-eye contacts? Seriously, Magnus?"

"We're going to a warlock's party! I was trying to make an effort!" Magnus protested. "It looks like a warlock mark, see?"

"Oh my god, Magnus, I could _kill_ you right now!"

"I'm not taking them out. Don't even try to convince me," Magnus warned her. "I happen to think they go fantastically with my gold eyeliner."

"Magnus, I know you think you can get away with many things because Consul Shade once called you 'the best shadowhunter of our generation', but one day you're going to piss off someone you can't handle."

"Oh but darling, nobody could ever get pissed off at someone this fabulous," Magnus smirked, striking a pose. Ragnor snorted and stage-whispered, "Wanna bet?"

When they stepped out of the Subway station, Simon was attacked by a blur of red hair that knocked his glasses askew. Raphael's hand immediately dropped to the weapon in his belt, but Ragnor quickly placed a hand on his chest.

"Easy, Raph. It's a mundane," Ragnor said.

"Clary," Simon breathed in a mix of relief and apprehension, hugging his best friend so hard he was worried he might crack a rib. "What are you doing here?" 

"You said you were going to try to get your memories back from that warlock guy. I figured one more person in your corner couldn't hurt."

"No offense, biscuit, but you're all of five feet tall. You're hardly going to send anyone trembling with fear," Magnus laughed in amusement as he eyed her critically. Clary immediately rounded on him, her expression fierce.

"You'd be surprised," she said savagely.

"Well, I'm not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable shoes yet, but I like you," Magnus grinned. "I guess we can keep you around."

"We're not bringing a mundane along to a downworlder's party," Raphael bit out. "It's bad enough having one deadweight, but at least he was born with the blood of the angels in his veins. We're not here to baby sit." 

"Clary... hey, I really appreciate you coming all the way here, but perhaps he has a point, you know," Simon told Clary quietly. "I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Don't worry, I'm not stupid," Clary said reassuringly. "I'll stick close to all of you, I promise. I'm not going to touch anything I'm not supposed to, and I'll watch my drink. It's just a party. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Once you've spent a bit more time in our world, you won't ask that question again," Raphael muttered.

"Come along then," Magnus twirled his fingers, taking the lead. "There's a party waiting!"

"We're here on business, not pleasure," Catarina reminded them.

"Yes, yes, it's a serious mission, blah blah. Oh, we should have code names! I’ll say: ‘Blue Squirrel, this is Hot Fox. Mission to be aborted with extreme prejudice," Magnus mimicked speaking into a headpiece. "Ragnor can be 'Brit Cabbage', Seamus can be 'Nerd Rat', and his little friend can be 'Red Biscuit'."

"What about Raphael?" Simon couldn't help asking.

"Grumpy Cat?" Magnus tried. Raphael glared. "No, not feeling it? How about 'Sour Puss'?" If looks could kill, the look Raphael gave Magnus would have hammered the nails in the coffin as well.

  

The directions on the invitation took them to a largely industrial neighborhood in Brooklyn whose streets were lined with factories and warehouses. Some, Simon could see, had been converted into lofts and galleries.

"Keep up," said an irritable voice in his ear. It was Raphael, who had dropped back to walk beside Simon and Clary. "I don't want to have to keep looking behind me to make sure nothing's happened to you two."

"So don't bother," Simon sniped, suddenly annoyed. Raphael rolled his eyes but stayed beside them.

"Raphael!" Magnus suddenly called out, a mischievous grin on his face. He was pointing at several motorcycles, sleek and silvery, with low-slung black chassis. Oily-looking tubes and pipes slithered up and around them, ropy as veins. They looked alive somehow, and it made Simon feel queasy.

"Vampires," Raphael laughed darkly.

"Uh. They look like motorcycles to me," Simon said in confusion.

"These motorcycles have been altered to run on demon energies," Catarina explained. "Vampires use them - it lets them get around fast at night." She was frowning at the three shadowhunter boys. "Don't you dare."

"Dare what?" Magnus asked innocently, putting an arm around her to steer her away. Simon thought he saw Raphael take something out from his jacket pocket. Catarina wasn't fooled - she turned sharply to Raphael, who stepped back from the motorcycles with both hands held up where she could see them.

"Just looking."

They trudged up the steps of the nearest warehouse. There was a name written under the doorbell - 'Lightwood'.

Magnus pressed the buzzer firmly. Then, with a cheeky grin, began to play a tune by pressing the buzzer repeatedly. Catarina quickly grabbed his wrist and glared at him. 

The door flew open, and in it stood the most gorgeous woman Simon had ever seen. Her long dark hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, and she was wearing a white dress so tight and so short that it left little to the imagination. Her lips were painted a dark red, standing out against her warm brown skin. There was a small red stone set in the middle of her forehead, like a third eye.

"Children of the Nephilim," she purred, eyeing all of them. "Well, this is a surprise. Are you sure my brother invited you?" 

Magnus took out the invitation and waved it, smiling winningly. "I have an invitation. And can I just say - your boots are absolutely _darling_."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she grinned. Her gaze lingered on Simon, and she winked at him. "You'd better come on up then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not written fanfic for a long time, but this plot bunny bit me and refused to let go.
> 
> Inspired by an interview Harry Shum Jr gave about what Shadowhunters AU he would like to see (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmtKqet55AA&t=92s), and by the gorgeous work of @umkasandiary (on tumblr).


	2. Chapter 2

 "By the way, if you have to murder any of the guests, try to avoid getting blood on the carpets? I would never hear the end of it from Alec," their hostess called over her shoulder as they made their way up the rickety stairs. 

"Who is she?" Clary whispered. Simon shrugged helplessly.

"Isabelle Lightwood. She is Alec Lightwood's twin sister, and a powerful warlock in her own right," Ragnor replied in an undertone. He gave Simon a reproachful look. "Didn't you tell Catarina you were paying attention to the briefing this afternoon?"

Simon look embarrassed. "I may have zoned out a bit," he admitted. "In my defence, Magnus was sitting next to me, doing a full manicure while humming Taylor Swift's 'Blank Space'." 

Thankfully, Magnus was deep in discussion with Isabelle about something or someone called Ferragamo, and didn't hear Simon. 

The apartment at the top of the stairs was huge, and very crowded. The space looked very utilitarian - bare walls and plain carpets, with everything in shades of black and shiny chrome. What little furniture in the room looked like they had been bought for durability and getting the job done, with little thought to aesthetics. For the purposes of the party, most of the furniture had been pushed to the sides, and there was a makeshift bar at one end of the room that comprised of what looked like doors torn off their hinges and laid across dented metal garbage cans. A lilac-skinned woman in a metallic bustier was serving drinks behind the bar, working with amazing efficiency - probably helped along by the fact that she had a second pair of arms.

The rest of the crowd was just as strange. Simon thought he saw a guest with webbed feet, like a frog's, and a group of pale young women sipped scarlet liquid too thick to be wine from fluted crystal glasses. The centre of the room was packed with bodies dancing to the pounding beat that bounced off the walls, though Simon couldn't see a band anywhere. 

"Hello, baby shadowhunter," someone said in Simon's ear, and he jumped. It was Isabelle Lightwood, and she was looking at him like he was something good to eat. She held out a hand. "I'm Isabelle." 

"Lewis. Simon. Simon Lewis. I mean, my name is Simon and my last name is Lewis, I don't have two first names. Am I still talking?" 

Isabelle giggled in delight. "You're so cute! Do you like the party?" 

"Yeah... it's great," Simon replied in a daze. He was surrounded by people, but everyone else seem to have faded into the background, even Clary, who was standing right next to him.

"It's my birthday party," Isabelle confided. "Well, me and my brother's, but he hates birthdays and hates parties. He only agreed to let me throw one here because it's supposed to my birthday present."

"Happy birthday," Simon said. "Sorry, I didn't know it was your birthday - I didn't bring a present."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry," Isabelle said slyly, sidling closer and trailing a finger across his chest. "I think you have something I want, actually."

"Leave him alone," Raphael growled, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and making Simon jump again. 

"Ooh, touchy. Did Mummy never teach you to share your toys with the other children?" Isabelle teased. 

"I don't play well with the other children," Raphael sneered. 

"Also, I'm not a toy, and I'm standing right here," Simon said hotly. 

"Sorry, but I'm too thirsty, I really need a drink right now!" Clary suddenly announced, shoving Simon and Raphael ahead of her and away from Isabelle, with an apologetic smile. Raphael jerked away and brushed Clary's hand off his shoulder forcefully, but Clary kept her fake smile in place and rounded on the two boys. 

"Look, she's the sister of the guy you're trying to ask a favour of, right? We want her on our side, so don't piss her off!"

Catarina nodded tightly; Magnus and Ragnor had already disappeared into the crowd, probably up to no good. "Let's just find Alec Lightwood, then get out of here." 

 

"Lightwood!" someone barked. A stocky, muscled man approached Isabelle, a finger levelled at her. "Someone just poured holy water into the gas tank on my bike. It's ruined. Destroyed. All the pipes are melted."

It wasn't difficult to eavesdrop on this conversation, as the man was practically shouting. Catarina shot a venomous look at Raphael, who smirked and shrugged. Magnus and Ragnor slipped out of the crowd and joined the group to watch the show, both looking far too smug. Simon saw Raphael give Ragnor a surreptitious low-five.

"Melted?" murmured Isabelle, examining her nails. "How dreadful."

"I want to know who did it!" The man bared his teeth, showing long pointed canines. "You promised there would be no werewolves!" 

"We invited none of the Moon's Children, precisely because of your stupid little feud," Isabelle said, sounding bored. "If any of them decided to sabotage your bike, they weren't a guest of mine, and are therefore... not my responsibility."

The vampire roared with rage, jabbing his finger toward Isabelle. "Are you trying to tell me that-"

"Enough."

Simon startled at the commanding voice. What he had taken to be a small mountain of dark-coloured rags in the corner of the room turned out to be a very tall man slouching over a glass of water. He was dressed in a truly ancient-looking sweater that may once have been black but was now grey, and jeans that had definitely seen better days. His hair was a mess, like he had never heard of a comb in his life and had a bad habit of running his hands through his hair. There was a large zigzag scar at the side of his neck, the edge of it just visible over his collar. 

"You've worn out your welcome," the man said coldly. "Now go." He splayed the fingers of his hand, and the vampire turned as smartly as if someone had grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. The vampire marched back into the crowd, heading toward the door, movements jerky like a puppet.

"Who are you?" Magnus breathed out in amazement. This earned him a smack across the back of his head from Catarina.

"Cat! My hair!" Magnus whined as he fussed with his perfectly gelled hair. "Was that really necessary?"

"If you had paid attention to my briefing, you wouldn't be asking that stupid question because there were a dozen photographs in there of the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and that's who you're ogling," Catarina hissed. 

The warlock in question turned towards them, still frowning, and seemed visibly startled to see Simon.

"Oh, it's you," he said.

"You recognise me?" Simon asked eagerly. 

"Sure, you're Elaine Lewis' kid, the one with the Sight," the warlock replied. "If you're here about your missing memories, the spell is too complex for me to undo. You'll just have to wait for the spell to wear off on its own."

"Um. Ok," Simon replied, a little flummoxed. This wasn't exactly how they'd expected this encounter to go.

"Warlock Lightwood, would it be possible for us to speak with you somewhere private?" Catarina asked politely. His eyes narrowed as he took in their runes and barely concealed weapons.

He exchanged a glance with someone behind them - Isabelle, Simon realised - and nodded, gesturing to a dark hallway that branched off into several rooms. 

 

He ushered them into what looked like a guest room. "I assume you were the ones who put the holy water in the vampire's motorcycle," the warlock said wryly once the door was shut.

"Yep," Magnus said gleefully. Catarina elbowed him in the ribs. Was it just Magnus' imagination, or had the warlock's gaze lingered on him for just a second?

Alec Lightwood didn't seem upset by their confession though, merely amused. "I told Jace I could have portaled them in," he shrugged. "He never listens to me."

"Warlock Lightwood, is there any way you could help Simon retrieve his memories more quickly than waiting for the spell to wear off on its own?" Catarina asked.

"My mother has been kidnapped, you see," Simon said in a rush. "I was hoping that if I could remember, maybe there'd be something that would help me find out who had taken her."

"How do you know she was kidnapped by someone from the Shadow World?" the warlock asked. "The crime rate in New York isn't exactly low."

"There was a demon lying in wait for him when he went home," Raphael explained. "A ravener demon." 

"You think someone was controlling that demon," the warlock nodded thoughtfully. "They aren't exactly independent thinkers."

"Yeah, and it kept saying something about a mortal cup-" Simon added. 

"The Mortal Cup?" Raphael said sharply. Suddenly all eyes were on him. "And you didn't think to mention this sooner?"

"I was sick with demon venom for three days, then I kind of was just panicking?" Simon said defensively. "What's the big deal about a cup anyway?"

"Not just any cup - the Mortal Cup is one of the Mortal Instruments, given by the Angel Raziel to Jonathan Shadowhunter. Drinking from the Cup turns mundanes into shadowhunters, and it can be used to control demons as well," Catarina explained quickly. 

"And you guys just... lost it?" Simon said incredulously. 

"We didn't _lose_ it," Raphael said irritably. "It was stolen from the Clave."

"By?!"

"That's the problem - nobody knows," Ragnor said. "It just vanished, despite all the wards and protections surrounding it. That was almost 18 years ago."

"What does my mother have anything to do with it?" Simon felt the panic rising. "They don't think... they don't think she was the one who stole it? Like have they even _seen_ my mother? She's the most normal, rational person in the whole world. She doesn't even like horror or fantasy shows!"

"I'd have to agree with Simon," the warlock said. "As far as I know, your mother was a mundane. She thought I was a hypnotist - when you started being able to see the Shadow World as a child, she thought you were going mad. Your neighbour Magdalena, who is a warlock herself, recognised the signs and convinced your mother to send you to me, so I could block your memories of the Shadow World. I had always assumed you were just a mundane with the Sight - it does happen," the warlock shrugged.

"So you're saying they got the wrong person?!" Simon was aware that he was almost shouting now, but couldn't bring himself to care. "You're saying there's been some sort of mix up, and I don't even know how to begin to fix this-"

"Perhaps it's something to do with your father?" Clary spoke up. "After all, if your mother is human, but _you_ aren't..."

"So my father was a shadowhunter?" Simon asked the room at large. 

"Probably. The blood of the Clave is dominant," Ragnor agreed.

"Why don't you look up the Gray Book - you must have a copy in the Institute library," the warlock suggested. "Find the Memory rune, see if it helps Simon regain his memories, and hopefully there will be something there. That's the best I can do for you, I'm afraid."

They exchanged looks - it seemed like a reasonable solution. "Thank you, Warlock Lightwood," Catarina said politely. He merely shrugged. They filed out of the room slowly, but Magnus lingered behind.

"I'm Magnus. I don't think we've been formally introduced?" Magnus said as he sauntered up to the warlock. His eyes widened as he took in Magnus' appearance, and a faint blush rose to his pale cheeks.

"Alec," the warlock said, a little flustered, his face lighting up with a smile. Magnus felt his own heart stutter in his chest - it was like watching the sun come out after the storm. Up close, Magnus could see that the warlock's eyes were a warm hazel colour, a shifting sea of green and brown.

"Is that short for Alexander?" Magnus asked with a smile of his own. 

"Yes, but nobody calls - has called me that for centuries," Alec seemed uncomfortable to have revealed this bit of information, his eyes darting away from Magnus'. "Uh... We should really... you know, probably get..." Alec stuttered, gesturing vaguely at the door. 

"Right, we should join the party," Magnus agreed, but made no move to leave.

"Right," Alec mumbled, and practically fled. 

By the time Magnus came out of the room, Alec was nowhere to be seen.

 

 

Once they were out of the room, Simon made a beeline for the bar. 

"Si, are you sure you should be drinking?" Clary laid a hand on his arm in concern, and it was all Simon could do not to shrug it off.

"Sure, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Simon muttered as he downed the bright green shot in one go. It burned his throat like fire, and he choked. At least now he could blame the tears on the alcohol.

Raphael slid silently into the seat next to him and ordered a shot from the bartender as well. "Nobody should drink alone," he said by way of explanation, and downed his shot as well.

"Oh, are we all going to take advantage of the open bar?" Ragnor grinned, getting a glass of wine for himself. "Anything for you, Catarina darling?"

Catarina rolled her eyes and shook her head. She glanced at Simon and shared a look with Ragnor, then sighed. "Fifteen minutes more, and we're going back, ok?"

"Yes, mum," Magnus said snarkily as he joined them at the bar. "Whiskey on the rocks, please."

Ragnor raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, did the handsome warlock manage to resist your charms then?"

"Shut up, Ragnor." 

On the other end of the bar, a blond beefcake-type had sidled up to Clary and was smiling toothily at her. "How can I not know who you are?"

"Has that line seriously ever worked for you? Even once?" Clary scoffed. The boy grinned, and Simon noticed that his canines seemed unusually sharp.

"Come on, let's go," Simon pulled Clary towards him, glaring at the blond vampire, who quirked an eyebrow at him as they left.

Magnus drained his glass and nonchalantly looked around the room, but Alec was still nowhere in sight.

"Hey."

Magnus turned and found himself facing Isabelle. She handed him a slip of paper and winked.

Magnus twirled the paper in one hand and smiled a little wistfully. "I'm flattered, darling, but I'm afraid I rather had my eyes set on someone else tonight."

"I know," Isabelle grinned. "Call him."

Magnus laughed and pecked her on the cheek. "I have a feeling we are going to be _such_ good friends."


	3. Chapter 3

 

Most of the books that had once stocked the Institute library had been digitised, but the books that couldn't be digitised for whatever reason remained on the dusty shelves. They had sneaked Clary in through the downworlders entrance, and the group was now settled down on the mismatched collection of moth-bitten sofas and heavy wooden chairs that littered the library. Magnus stalked through the shelves, ringed fingers trailing along dusty covers until he finally dragged down a heavy volume bound in rotting green velvet. He flipped through the pages, shedding dust and bits of blackened cloth. The pages were thin, almost translucent eggshell parchment, each marked with a stark black rune.

"So that's it? That's the Gray Book?" Clary asked, fascinated.

"It's not grey," Simon felt compelled to point out. "It's green."

Raphael rolled his eyes.

"Gray is short for 'Gramarye.' It means 'magic, hidden wisdom.' In it is copied every rune the Angel Raziel wrote in the original Book of the Covenant. There aren't many copies because each one has to be specially made. Some of the runes are so powerful they'd burn through regular pages," Ragnor explained.

"I didn't know all that," Raphael said, sounding unwillingly impressed.

"Not all of us sleep through history lessons, darling," Ragnor relaxed into a musty wing-backed armchair.

"I do not!"

"Oh yes you do, and drool on the desk besides."

"Shut up," said Magnus mildly. He hooked his finger between two pages of the book and came over to Simon, setting it carefully in his lap. "Now, when I open the book, I want you to study the page. Look at it until you feel something change inside your mind."

"Will it hurt?" Simon asked nervously.

"All knowledge hurts," he replied, and stood up, letting the book fall open. 

Simon stared down at the clean white page with the black rune Mark spilled across it. He tilted his head. After a long while, he looked up at the group staring expectantly at him.

"I don't feel any different, to be honest."

Everyone let out a collective sigh.

"Raphael, I think you picked up a defective shadowhunter," Magnus declared. "Maybe that's why he was left out in the mundane world for so long."

"It was a long shot anyway," Catarina sighed. "Let's all get some sleep. Maybe things will be clearer in the morning."

"I'll check with Luke again," Clary promised Simon, hugging him tightly. "He's in the NYPD after all, he might be able to find out how they are progressing on your mother's case." 

"Yeah, ok. I'll see you out. Be careful on your way home, ok?" Simon hugged her back.

"Don't worry, Simon. I've got my pepper spray," Clary grinned. "Besides, I'll have you know I finally mastered my roundhouse kick in my kickboxing class." 

They walked in silence to the downworlder entrance of the Institute, which led to a small cemetery on the church grounds.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Simon promised.  

"It'll be alright, Si. We'll find her," Clary pecked him on the cheek and gave him a small wave over her shoulder.

She checked her phone as she walked briskly through the small path winding among the headstones. It was a little over four in the morning - her mother was going to kill her if she found out Clary had sneaked out. With luck, she'd be able to get in the house quietly and pretend nothing had happened before her mother woke up. 

"It's far too late for anyone to be wandering the streets alone. How about I walk you home?"

Clary whipped her head up in surprise. It was the blond boy from the party. He was leaning against the kissing gate at the entrance of the cemetery - the only way out of the place, Clary realised with a sinking feeling. 

"I'm fine, thanks," Clary said warily, her hand already reaching for the keys in her pocket, and its mini pepper spray keychain.

"I insist," he said with a charming smile. His teeth glinted in the moonlight. "I'd feel horrible if anything were to happen to you."

  

Images flashed through Simon's mind, a glimpse or whiff of something that was gone before he could reach for it. A child's first memory of light falling through crib bars, the recollected scent of rain and city streets, a brightly-coloured fairy sprite in a hedge, a little boy with horns on his head shrieking on a swing as he flew into the air, a cry of pain, a swirl of red hair. Laughter. A muffled sob.

Simon sat up with a gasp, his head spinning. It was too much, too fast - the memories that had returned weren't just of the bits of the shadow world he had been made to forget. It was the joy of innocence, the pain of unforgotten loss, the sting of remembered humiliation.

There was a knock on the door. Simon winced - he felt like he was having the worst hangover of his life, and that was saying something, considering he and Clary had once snuck out an entire bottle of tequila from his mother's liquor cabinet when they were 15 years old. "Come in, door's not locked," he called out.

Raphael was the last person he'd expected, but here he was, looking uncomfortable and awkward, which was a very strange look on the morose shadowhunter. "Are you ok?" he frowned, taking in Simon's pained expression. 

"Yeah... turns out that memory rune did work. Just that everything is a jumble, and my head kind of feels like it's swollen to ten times the normal size," Simon complained. "I think I'm going to puke."

"Well, you know where the bathroom is," Raphael said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Then he relented and said more gently, "I'll go get you some Tylenol."

Simon flopped back down on the bed, trying to calm the roiling feeling in his empty stomach. Maybe he just needed food. He'd just lie in a while, and try to scrounge up something. "Any moment now, Lewis," he muttered to himself.

He must have fallen back asleep. When he opened his eyes again, his head still hurt but the room was spinning less. There were two white tablets on his bedside table and a glass of water, and Simon grinned. Remembering his promise, he grabbed his phone and tried calling Clary, but she didn't pick up - perhaps she was still asleep? Simon checked the time - it was well after lunch time. Perhaps her mum had confiscated her phone as punishment for sneaking out. Simon tried not to be too worried - Clary could take care of herself. He tried calling his sister Rebecca again - still no answer. 

He found Catarina in the command centre - the other three shadowhunters were apparently on a mission somewhere. Simon tried not to feel a bit disappointed.

"Our next move is to find out who your father is," Catarina nodded after Simon had explained what had happened after the memory rune.

"Ok, so do you need a cheek swap or something?" Simon asked.

"What?"

"You know, so you can match it with your records and find my father?"

Catarina frowned. "I think I've heard of this in mundane medical journals, but we don't have the resources to do that yet."

"Seriously, guys? You have all this funky tech, but no DNA profiling?"

"No DNA profiles, at least not for people of our parents' generation," Catarina explained. "We've been a little slow keeping up with technology."

"Damn," Simon sighed. "So how do you propose we do this?"

"I thought we could go back to your house and see if we could find something to track your mum or your sister. She might have something that belonged to your father as well?"

"But according to Luke - he's Clary's step-father, and he's a detective with NYPD - the people came back and gutted the apartment. Not even a picture frame left."

"We're all out of options, until you can remember something else that can help us," Catarina said apologetically. "But wait for the boys to get back, ok? At least have one of them go with you, in case there are still demons lying in wait for you."

When the boys trudged in two hours later, covered in ichor and blood, they were not thrilled when Catarina told them about the plan.

"Cat, I just got back. I want to soak in a bubble bath for an hour, light some scented candles, drink champagne, and watch crappy TV," Magnus whined.

"You have a bathtub in your bathroom? Mine just has a shower," Simon said. Perhaps there were perks to going up the shadowhunter ranks?

"So does mine," Magnus admitted. "But a boy can dream, right?" 

"I'm afraid we can't go, it'll have to be Magnus," Ragnor said regretfully. "I promised Tessa from the London Institute that we'd work on our Greater Demon research project over video conference later, and Raphael has a nasty wound from that Shax demon nest we were clearing out."

"I can go, I'm fine," Raphael gritted out. "Nothing an irazte won't fix."

Catarina grabbed his arm before he could dodge her, and clucked over the state of the wound, which was starting to ooze a little. "No, go to the infirmary, Raphael. You've got to get this cleaned out properly. Magnus will go."

"Since when are you the boss of me?" Magnus asked petulantly. 

"Since I'm the leader of our patrol team," Catarina replied smugly. 

"Fine," Magnus huffed. "But I'm changing out of this gear first." 

 

By the time Magnus was done colour-coordinating his outfit, the sun was setting and Simon was so anxious he felt like jumping out of his skin. The Lewis family lived in a walk-up apartment - nothing fancy, but big enough for the family of three, and in a relatively good neighbourhood. Children were playing on the sidewalk, taking advantage of the good weather, and bees buzzed drowsily in the rose bushes. From the outside, everything looked perfectly normal. Magnus took something out of his pocket that looked a bit like a mobile phone, frowning when it made clicking noises.

"What's that?"

"It's a Sensor. It picks up demonic frequencies," Magnus replied, sounding a little distracted. 

"Cool. So it's like an EMF reader that picks up demon shortwave?" Simon asked, fidgeting with the zip of his jacket

"It’s like you're trying to speak to me, I know it,” Magnus said to the world at large as they trudged up the stairs. "There are all these sounds coming out of your mouth, but none of them make sense."

Simon shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. "Never mind. Is it supposed to do that weird clicking sound?"

"It's picking up trace demonic activity, but that could just be left over from the ravener demon that got you the other night. I'm not getting anything strong enough for there to be demons present now."

"Ok, great. Let's do this," Simon took a deep breath, and stood to one side of the apartment door.

"We don't have all day, Sherwin. What are you waiting for?" Magnus asked impatiently.

"Um, aren't you going to go in first? To sweep the perimeter or something?" 

"What do I look like, your bodyguard?" Magnus snorted. "Sorry, darling, but you look nothing like Whitney Houston."

"Right, because why would you need a kickass demon hunter when you've got a scrappy nerd from Brooklyn?" Simon mumbled, glancing nervously at the door and back at Magnus.

"What are you so afraid of?" Magnus drawled.

"Where do I start? Small spaces. Snakes. Clowns. Demons trying to tear my head off..."

"You're a shadowhunter, Steve. You have the blood of angels running through your veins - you're tougher than you think. Honestly, it's time to man up," Magnus scolded. "Here - maybe this will help." He slid one of the handles out from his belt and handed it to Simon. 

"Great." Simon hoped he was holding it the right way up. He didn't want to be that guy impaling himself on his own magical angel sword.

"I'll be right outside," Magnus said. "Go on then."

Simon turned the handle and stepped in - it was completely empty. Startlingly, entirely empty, the way it had been when they'd first moved in - the walls and floor bare, the furniture gone, even the curtains torn down from the windows. Even the refrigerator was gone.

"What would demons want with our microwave?" Simon wondered aloud, his voice echoing in the empty apartment. Someone had even scrubbed out the ancient Tabasco sauce stain on one of the kitchen counters. He shook his head and made his way cautiously down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

 

Meanwhile, having finally gotten rid of Simon, Magnus was fiddling with his phone, second-guessing his decision to call Alec. It was odd - Magnus was never this nervous. Ever since he had started dating, which admittedly had only been a few years, Magnus had not been shy about trying new things. He had been with men and women, both mundane and shadowhunters, and even a werewolf or two. But something about this budding connection with Alec seemed momentous, somehow - like he was on the brink of something that would change his life forever.

Magnus pressed the call button before he could dissuade himself again.

The phone kept ringing; Magnus was about to hang up when the warlock picked up. "Hello? Who is this?" Alec sounded very suspicious. He didn't seem like the type to give out his number often; he probably thought Magnus was a telemarketer or something, Magnus thought with a grin. 

"Alexander! Hi, it's Magnus. We met the other day. You know, at the party?"

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, hey, what's up?" Alec sounded much friendlier now, and Magnus felt his mood lift. 

"I was just thinking it was really nice getting to know you. Would you like to go out for a drink some time?"

"That sounds fun. Um... When?"

"How about right now?" Magnus asked, making a split-second decision. Samuel would be fine on his own, it was just an empty apartment after all. 

"Um... You know, now's not a really good time for me. Gotta go." There were some rustling sounds on the other side of the line, then, "Jace, I told you not to touch that-" The line went dead. 

"Well, that didn't go too badly, I guess. And I love a challenge," Magnus grinned. And then he heard a crash from inside the apartment, and an inhuman roar.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short fic, but it kind of ran away from me and may turn out to be a little longer than I expected. My updates may be a little slower after this, and I apologise for the possible wait.
> 
> Fic rating changed because from my outline I think this is going to get a bit darker. Will update warnings if necessary.


	4. Chapter 4

Magnus ran in so quickly, he skidded across the kitchen floor and almost slammed into a wall. Simon had pushed himself flat against the wall and was fumbling with the handle of the seraph blade Magnus had given him, his face a mask of surprise. Looming over Simon was an enormous man with a broad-bladed axe clutched in one gigantic dead-white hand. Tattered filthy rags hung off his grimy skin, and his hair was a single matted tangle, thick with dirt. He stank of poisonous sweat and rotting flesh.  

To Magnus' delight, the inexperienced shadowhunter stood his ground and raised the hilt of the blade in his hand when the thing charged at him, although he almost dropped it when the blade suddenly shot out of the handle. He slashed clumsily at the gigantic man, who staggered back with a bellow.

Magnus raced towards Simon, caught his arm, and pushed him ahead of him down the hall. For something that looked so heavy and plodding, the creature behind them was coming on fast. Once they were out of the apartment, Magnus whipped around and slammed the front door shut. He pressed a glowing stick to it, scribbling something with a flourish.

"Get downstairs!" he told Simon.

There was a tremendous crash - the front door shook on its hinges as the thing inside struck the door with its axe.

"Don't just stand there! GET A MOVE ON, SIMON!" 

Simon snapped out of his daze and jumped on the railing, sliding down it to the bottom of the stairs. He was not a moment too soon - another blow came, and this time the hinges gave way and the door flew outward. Magnus leapt out of the way, his own blade glowing in his hand in the dark landing like a star. His purple jacket flew behind him, looking like a superhero's cape.

The creature threw its axe at Magnus' head. He ducked, and it thunked heavily into the wall. It lurched at Magnus, and he spun out of the way, his jacket swirling behind him, and that seemed to enrage the creature the way a red flag might enrage a bull. It roared, its enormous fists grabbing a handful of the material, throwing Magnus off-balance.

Magnus, having not expected that he would have to fight anything, was regretting his outfit just a little bit.

He shrugged out of his jacket in one elegant motion, sparing a moment to mourn it, then brought the seraph blade around in an arcing sweep, burying it to the hilt in the creature's shoulder. The gigantic man roared in pain and staggered backwards. Magnus spun, pulling the blade out and driving it forward again, this time into the creature's neck. Blood fountained from the giant's throat, splattering Magnus's clothes. Simon winced, fighting an urge to gag. The air was full of the smell of blood, heavy and metallic.

"Well, that was disgusting," Magnus complained as he surveyed the damage to his clothes. 

"What was that thing?" Simon asked, torn between his curiousity and horror at the creature, which was in the throes of death and was still flopping weakly, a bloody froth leaking from its mouth.

"A Forsaken warrior. This is what happens when you put runes on someone who doesn't have shadowhunter blood - one would probably just burn you, but a lot of powerful ones are just pure agony. The pain of it drives them mad, turns them into fierce, mindless warriors that are completely loyal to the one that marked them."

"That's horrible," Simon grimaced.

"I hope you found what you came for, at least," Magnus said. "I would hate for the wanton destruction of my clothes to have gone to waste." 

"Um, yeah," Simon patted his pocket, making sure he still had the ring he had found under the floorboards. "I think I found my mother's wedding ring. She hid it under a loose floorboard in her room, used to take it out in the middle of the night when she thought we were asleep to cry over it."

"Fascinating," Magnus deadpanned. "We're going to have to report this to Catarina. She is going to _freak out_ ," Magnus brightened at the prospect. "Come on then, I need _another_ bath. And by the angel, you two had better not come up with any more bright ideas on places to look for clues, at least not today."

Simon hummed his agreement. "Hey wait - you called me by my correct name, just now, when the Forsaken was breaking down the door."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sydney."

 

"This is a shadowhunter family ring," Catarina declared.

"Hallelujah! So do we finally have a name for our fledgling shadowhunter here?" Ragnor asked. 

"This is the Hale family ring," Catarina said quietly. Ragnor and Raphael exchanged dark looks, and Magnus was especially quiet. 

"I'm guessing that's not a good thing," Simon said nervously.  

"I'm not in any place to be judging anyone by their family, so you're fine by me," Magnus said with a sardonic smile.

Catarina cleared her throat. "About 18 years ago, there was an uprising led by a group of rogue shadowhunters that called themselves the Circle. They didn't agree with the Accords, you see - they felt shadowhunters shouldn't associate with downworlders, that those of demon blood were inferior to us."

"I'm guessing the Accords are some sort of peace treaty between downworlders and shadowhunters? What are 'downworlders' anyway?"

"Werewolves, warlocks, the Fair Folk, and vampires," Ragnor supplied.

"So what happened to the rogue shadowhunters?"

"The downworlders and Clave worked together to bring them down. They killed the leader of the uprising, and the rest of his followers either fled or surrendered," Catarina told him.

"And the Hale family was what? The leader of the uprising?" Simon asked with trepidation.

"You wish," Magnus snorted. "They were just supporters. They didn't surrender though, so they are still on the run from the Clave." 

"Who was the racist douchbag who led this rebellion then?" 

"That would be my dear old dad, Asmodeus Bane," Magnus replied. Simon gaped. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's ok, he _was_ a racist douchbag," Magnus shrugged. "I was a baby when he died, I don't remember him at all. The Clave has been very kind to my family, despite everything."

The way he said it, like it was something he had memorised, made Simon feel hollow inside.

"'Simon Hale' sounds weird. I think I'm just going to stick with 'Lewis'," Simon decided. 

"It's cute that you think you actually have a choice," Magnus said quietly, fiddling with one of his rings.

"So why did they kidnap Simon's mum?" Raphael asked. "Do they think the Hales had the Cup?" 

"Unlikely. Barnabas Hale wasn't very high up in the ranks of the Circle, I think. But who knows?" Magnus shrugged. "Cat, you haven't told anyone about Simon's demon attacker mentioning the Cup, right?"

"No, it's way above our paygrade. If I put it in the report, they might send another team to take over this, but we don't even know if this is a concrete lead. Now that we have this ring, with parabatai tracking we should be able to find either Simon's mother or father," Catarina smiled. "Hopefully we can get some answers soon."

"Ooh, Raph, hear that? Parabatai tracking!" Magnus crowed gleefully.

Raphael dropped his head backwards against the back of the chair and groaned.

"Oh pleeeaaaase say to me, you'll let me be your man," Magnus sang into an invisible microphone, swooning dramatically.

"And pleeeaaaase say to me, you'll let me hold your haaaand!" Ragnor sang, holding out one hand to Raphael.

Magnus and Ragnor clasped their hands tightly between the two of them and gazed into each other eyes, singing in dreadful disharmony, "Now, let me hold your hand! I want to hold your haaaand!"  

"Haha. Very mature. You are both 5-year-olds," Raphael scowled. Magnus and Ragnor erupted into peals of laughter, drawing disapproving glances from the other shadowhunters in the command centre.  

"Are they drunk?" Simon asked uncertainly. "Even though it's only like, nine in the morning."

"It's always happy hour somewhere, my dear," Magnus said with a wink. 

"You'll understand when you see it," Catarina said, obviously trying not to laugh as well.  

"Not you too, Cat," Raphael groaned. "It's bad enough that _my parabatai_ seems to think this is a massive joke." He glared at Ragnor, who was still giggling.

"Ok, ok, I'm back," Ragnor said, fighting to keep a straight face. Then Magnus caught his eye, and they burst out into laughter again.

"By the angel, stop, I can't breathe," Magnus finally wheezed out, tears running down his face. "My make-up's completely ruined."

"Come on, let's go outside to do this," Catarina said with a grin. 

"I'm going to fix my make-up and stay away from Ragnor and Raphael while they do their... thing," Magnus grinned, giving them all a little wave. "Laters!"

 

Simon followed them to the courtyard of the Institute in bemusement. Raphael was still sulking a bit, but held his hand out for the ring.

"So what's this parabatai tracking thing?" Simon asked Catarina in an undertone as Ragnor drew a rune on Raphael's palm with his glowy stick thing, then passed it to Raphael so he could draw one on Ragnor's palm as well.

"When two shadowhunters decide to become parabatai, they basically join their souls," Catarina explained. "Parabatai can share strength in battle, and runes drawn by your parabatai will always be more powerful than those drawn by yourself or by another. They can also use certain runes that individual shadowhunters cannot use."

Raphael and Ragnor clasped Simon's mother's ring in their joined hands, staring at each other in concentration. Simon thought he saw something swirling around their hands.

"It's oddly intimate if you ask me," Simon grinned. He was starting to see why Magnus and Ragnor had been laughing so hard - the problem with it was really the expression on Raphael's face. The shadowhunter's face was almost always twisted into a scowl or grimace; seeing him now, his expression open and earnest, made him look so much younger and vulnerable. With a jolt, Simon wondered how old his new friends were - a year or two older than him, at the most?

"Got it," Raphael said triumphantly, breaking off. "They are on Roosevelt Island."  

"Good job, guys," Catarina beamed. "I'll scope out the place and we can move in for reconnaissance."

"I'll get Simon geared up," Raphael offered.

"Wait - geared up? Like with actual weapons and stuff?"

"Yes, with 'weapons and stuff'," Raphael huffed in annoyance. "Come on."

  

"Can I ask you a question?" Simon panted as he jogged to keep up with Raphael. 

"You just did," Raphael pointed out, ignoring Simon's wheezing. If being a shadowhunter meant he'd have to start going to the gym more often, Simon wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of this whole supernatural fight club.

"Magnus said the Forsaken were made by marking mundanes with runes. How sure were you that I was a shadowhunter when you gave me this rune?" Simon demanded, pointing at the healing rune Raphael had drawn on his neck when he had been attacked by the ravener demon.  

"You don't make Forsaken from one tiny rune like that," Raphael scoffed. "Besides, I was 100% sure you were a shadowhunter."

"Really? Why?" 

Raphael reached into a pocket and tossed something at Simon, and much to Simon's surprise, he actually managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

"What's this?" Simon turned the object around in his hands - it appeared to be some sort of rock, its grey surface worn smooth from repeated handling. 

"Hold it properly - grip it in your fist, like this-"

Much to Simon's amazement, the rock began to glow.

"This is a witchlight rune-stone," Raphael explained. "It only reacts to angel blood."

"Neat," Simon said, swallowing hard. He tried to give it back to Raphael, but the other boy just shook his head.

"Keep it - it's yours now," Raphael said brusquely. "Every shadowhunter should have their own witchlight stone."

"Thanks," Simon gave him a small smile and slipped the stone in his pocket. It felt heavy - heavier than the little pebble should have felt, probably because its presence suddenly made everything seem more real. He was a shadowhunter now, whether he liked it or not.


	5. Chapter 5

The weapons room looked exactly the way you'd expect something called "the weapons room" would look. Brushed metal walls were hung with every manner of sword, dagger, spike, pike, featherstaff, bayonet, whip, mace, hook, and bow. Soft leather bags filled with arrows dangled from hooks, and there were stacks of boots, leg guards, and gauntlets for wrists and arms. The place smelled of metal and leather and steel polish. 

Raphael walked briskly among the array of things, picking up things and dumping them on to a table in the corner.

"Do I really need that much stuff?" Simon picked through the things curiously.

"I'll run through the basics with you," Raphael said with just the hint of a smile. 

"If this leads to one of those scenes in the movie where the guy teaches the girl how to do something and he ends up practically groping her, I'm out," Simon muttered. 

Raphael frowned at him, clearly confused, then shook his head and went back to the task at hand. He put the clothes and shoes in a pile for Simon to try later for size, and handed Simon what he now recognised as the hilt of a seraph blade.

"Familiar with these?"

"Yeah, Magnus lent me one when we went back to my house. How does it work anyway?"

"Like the witchlight stone, it responds to angel blood. _No_  - by the angel - _this_ way up."

Simon gulped. He supposed he should be saying some prayers in gratitude to the guardian angel of clumsy shadowhunters that he hadn't impaled himself back at the house. "How do you tell which way is up?"

Raphael huffed impatiently, taking Simon through the basics of swordplay and correcting his grip, then went through several other weapons briefly - featherstaff, dagger, throwing stars and lance. He ended up selecting what he called a basic arsenal of weapons for Simon, which included two seraph blades and a longish silver dagger.

"Nice. Very stabby," Simon said, trying out the blade on an invisible foe.

"Now, this - this is called a stele," Raphael drew Simon's attention to one of the glowy stick things he'd seen them using. "It's made of the heavenly metal  _adamas_ , same as our seraph blades, and we use it to draw runes on our skin or on objects."

"Not much use for me until I actually know how to draw runes, I suppose," Simon laughed nervously. "Gods, I hope there aren't too many to learn, I suck at visual memory. And drawing. Mostly drawing. That's usually more Clary's cup of tea. Shit, what happens if I draw a rune wrong? Does it just become an awkward tattoo, or will I end up accidentally turning myself into a frog?"

Raphael gave Simon a look that spoke volumes about his opinion on Simon's intelligence. "You have heard of paper and pencils, and the saying 'practice makes perfect'?"

"Right, got it," Simon felt himself flushing a little in embarrassment.

"Concentrate on the defensive and healing runes for now. We usually draw some incomplete ones before we go into battle - that way we can complete them and activate them with just a simple stroke," Raphael explained. "Some of the marks we get are permanent, and others fade when the effects wear off."

"Cool. So I suppose one of you will rune me up later, before we go?"

"Ask Catarina - she's got a steady hand. I'll be busy doing Ragnor's anyway," Raphael said, looking away. "Anything else you'd like to try?"

"Actually... yeah. Could I try that bow?" Simon said eagerly. 

Raphael quirked an eyebrow at him, and went to retrieve the bow and a quiver of arrows. "Try not to accidentally hit me, I actually like this jacket."

Simon hid a smirk. Not that Simon wanted to brag, but he was actually good at it. Like, really, _really_ good. 

Simon felt the weight of the bow in his hands - it had a nice balance. He nocked the arrow, letting the tautness of the string bring him into that calm headspace he relished; the arrow was ready to fly. He drew his arm back, and it was that easy: bull’s-eye. He fired once more, and then again, arrows flying to find their targets, and his arms burned and his heart pounded with something like joy. Simon lowered his bow. 

Raphael's mouth was hanging open in surprise. Simon privately thought it was a very good look on the other boy. 

"Archery programme at B'nai B'rith summer camp," Simon said by way of explanation. "I've been going since I was ten."

"Are we interrupting anything?" Ragnor asked slyly as he strolled into the room. Raphael threw a knife at his face, which his parabatai caught easily.

"Boys," Catarina scolded.

"We're done here," Raphael said. "You?"

"I've done a preliminary check via the system, but I suppose we won't know for sure until we do a proper reconnaissance mission. I was thinking of going tonight but from a good distance in case there are wards..." Catarina frowned. "Where's Magnus?"

"I'll bet you twenty bucks that he's sneaked off to hit on the High Warlock of Brooklyn," Ragnor smirked. Catarina scowled and started furiously stabbing buttons on her phone.  

"Twenty bucks says he fails at it," Raphael sniggered.

  

Magnus was absolutely not slacking off. He had just needed to be out of the Institute for a while for some fresh air, which Magnus thought was completely reasonable.

They didn't need him for their parabatai tracking thing, and those things could take a while some times. And even if they did manage to get coherent results, Catarina, who was the embodiment of conscientiousness, would draw up reconnaissance missions and hold strategy meetings - _boring_ \- until the whole thing was planned to death. This would probably take up most of the afternoon, and before they knew it, it would be too close to sunset and they'd put the whole thing off for another day. Besides, if they really needed him, they would call.

His phone immediately started ringing. Magnus turned it off without looking at the Caller ID - he couldn't help it if he had forgotten to charge his phone, these things happened some times.

He pressed the buzzer to Alec's house and waited, leaning against the door frame while idly twisting the Bane family ring on his right hand. Maybe he should have called beforehand, instead of appearing on Alec's door so abruptly - he was sure the High Warlock of Brooklyn hadn't gotten the job just because he looked cute, he was probably very busy - but it had really been a spur of the moment thing.

The door opened suddenly, and Magnus barely caught himself from falling into the arms of the warlock. 

"Oh, sorry," Alec blinked in surprise. "I thought you were the food delivery guy."

Alec's hair looked like a cat had slept on his head. His sweater might have been brown once, although Magnus would be hard-pressed to name the colour it currently was. There was a large stain on it that looked suspiciously like mud, and other small splatters everywhere. His jeans were so worn that they were almost paper thin, and were also heavily stained. There was a heavy smell of burnt sugar about him - the smell of magic. He wore no shoes, which Magnus thought was rather brave of him considering the state of the stairwell. His toes curled nervously under Magnus' scrutiny, which Magnus found rather endearing.

"Did you want something?" Alec finally asked.

"I thought now would be a good time as any to take you out on the date we were talking about," Magnus said with a winning smile. 

"I have inventory to do - a shipment of horned toads and other potion ingredients just came in, and I need to sort them out immediately," Alec explained, looking a bit apologetic. "It'll probably take me all night."

"Oh. Sorry, I suppose I should have called before coming."

"No, it's ok," Alec hastened to assure him, a faint blush painting his cheekbones. He was so pale that his blushes showed very easily.

"I'll see you around, then," Magnus said with a small smile, straightening and turning to leave.

"Wait, um, Magnus?" Magnus quirked an eyebrow at Alec. This seemed to have the effect of making the warlock blush even harder. For a centuries-old creature, Alec really had very little guile. Magnus didn't know what to make of him.

"You could stay? I always order too much food anyway..."

Alec was going to spend the whole night doing inventory, which sounded like the most boring thing in the whole world, and Magnus was terminally allergic to boredom. Worse, it sounded like messy, dirty business if the state of Alec's clothes were anything to go by, and Magnus was wearing one of his favourite pairs of jeans.

Alec was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His eyes flicked upwards once, meeting Magnus' in a brief electric moment, then darted back to his own toes.

"Sure," Magnus answered brightly. "Sounds like fun."

 

Simon couldn't tear his eyes away from the set of gear that he had laid out carefully on his bed. Ragnor and Raphael were on the reconnaissance mission (probably cursing Magnus soundly the whole way) right now. 

So this was it - tomorrow would be his first mission as a shadowhunter. Simon felt so nervous that he wanted to puke. He recalled Magnus slaying the Forsaken warrior, and ended up really having to lean over the toilet bowl for a bit. If this was a Hallmark movie, this was the point where a character would be calling his one true love to confess his feelings, except that Simon didn't really have anyone in his life who fit that description. Well, there was Clary, but Clary had always been more like a sister... 

"Shit, Clary!" Simon dug in his pocket for his phone, "I totally forgot..." He had her number on speed dial, but he couldn't get through fast enough. 

He hopped from one foot to the other as the phone continued to ring. 

"NYPD, may I know who is trying to get in touch with Clarissa Adele Fray? You may be valuable in helping us with our investigation," a deep voice intoned on the other side.

Simon's heart leapt into his throat until he recognised the voice. "That wasn't funny, Luke," he said, annoyed. There was laughter on the other side of the line, then Clary's familiar voice came on. 

"Sorry, Si. He thinks he's super funny," Clary said, and Simon could imagine her sticking her tongue out at Luke.

"I swear I tried to call you..." 

"Yeah, _yesterday_. Some best friend you are," Clary teased. She let him grovel over the phone for a while more, then laughed. "It's ok, Si. My mum took my phone for the whole of yesterday anyway, I got caught trying to sneak home - I swear she has super hearing. Besides, I completely understand - you've had a lot going on. So what's up?" 

"Nothing. Just wanted to check that you were ok, you know," Simon said.

"Never better," Clary said cheerily over the phone. "How about you?"

"Well... Not much. Except that I've just found out that my father was probably the henchman of some racist psychopath and supports mass genocide as a political option." 

"What?!"

"Yeah, it's kind of a long story..." Simon trailed off. But this was the eve of a battle. He didn't want sound pessimistic, but it could very well be the last time he talked to Clary - not that she needed to know. 

"So, you know that ring I told you about, that my mum hides under the floor boards..."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, sorry. 
> 
> I swear I planned to write Sizzy, but Saphael is creeping up on me. LOL. I suppose I'll see how it goes?


	6. Chapter 6

 

"I didn't see your walk of shame this morning, but I know it happened," Ragnor waggled his eyebrows at Magnus suggestively.   

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Magnus said with a yawn. "Besides, I'd argue that it's barely morning _now_."

"Didn't get much sleep last night?" Ragnor teased.  

"As a matter of fact, no, I did not. But only because Alexander-

"Shut up!" Catarina hissed. "What's the point of using invisibility runes if the two of you keep gossiping like old ladies?!" 

"We're almost there, it's right up ahead," Raphael said from next to Simon, making him jump - he could have sworn there had been nobody there seconds ago. 

"Jesus H. Christ! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Simon complained, his heart still racing. Raphael just smirked.

Raphael and Ragnor had reported a distinct lack of demonic activity during their reconnaissance mission, so Catarina had decided their best chance to catch their target unaware was probably in the wee hours of the morning, when guards would most likely be worn down by the long night and lulled into a false sense of security.

They trudged along the path through the small park that surrounded the ruins of the Renwick Smallpox Hospital - well, Simon trudged; in the weak pre-dawn light, the four shadowhunters were slinking soundlessly from shadow to shadow like heavily-armed, leather-wearing panthers. Even with the fresh Soundless rune Catarina had carefully drawn on his shoulder, Simon personally thought they had given up all chance of catching anybody by surprise with his clumsy ass tagging along. 

He adjusted the bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. The unfamiliar gear - gauntlets, heavy boots, bulky weapons belt - sat awkwardly on his body. His skin tingled in the places where Catarina had drawn runes - iratze, deflect, speed, accuracy, soundless and stealth. She hadn't dared to give him too many in one go, since he still wasn't used to them - shadowhunter children usually received them one at a time, she had told him. As it was, even with some of them uncompleted and waiting for him to fill in if he needed them, his blood was singing in his body like he had just downed five shots of expresso in one go. He wished he could blame the butterflies in his stomach on them.

Renwick Smallpox Hospital stood at the southern end of Roosevelt Island. It had been built to care for smallpox patients, but it had also been a prison and insane asylum, and was rumoured to be the most haunted place in New York City. Simon shivered as its ghostly outlines, strangely prominent against the darkness of the river and the lingering illumination of Manhattan, came into view. The ruins were surrounded by a high chain-link fence with curlicues of razor wire strung on top like festive loops of ribbon. Its dilapidated state was obvious - the roofless walls jutted up from the uneven ground like broken teeth, and the whole building was covered with a thick green carpet of ivy.

"Guys, are you sure this is the right place? It's a wreck," Simon pointed out. "It looks abandoned. Like really, _really_ abandoned."

"Glamour?" Ragnor shrugged, exchanging a look with Catarina.

"Whatever it is, this is where the tracking spell leads," Raphael reminded him.

"Look." Magnus said suddenly, sharply. He had his eyes trained on one of the third-storey windows just at the edge of their vision.

Raphael frowned and ran his stele over a rune on his forearm, then nodded. "I see it."

"See what?" Simon asked, straining his eyes.

" _Dios mío_ ," Raphael huffed impatiently, grabbing Simon's arm and quickly tracing a rune into his forearm. Simon yelped at the burn.

"Night vision rune," Raphael explained, letting go of Simon. "Now look."

Simon squinted. His vision had gone all trippy, and he was very tempted to clean his glasses, even though he knew that wasn't the reason for his altered vision. He could feel the rune burning sharply, almost as intense as when Raphael had first applied it. Simon was just about to say that he still didn't see anything when it caught his eye - what he'd taken to be a reflection was a bright pinpoint of flickering light. A candle?

"Awesome," Simon breathed, a smile lighting his face - this was the first time he was actually experiencing tangible effects of the angel's runes. "I totally feel like one of the X-Men now."

"Ex-man?" Ragnor looked intrigued. Raphael and Catarina were exchanging puzzled looks.

"Comics, Ragnor," Magnus said with a laugh.

Simon looked over to Magnus in surprise. "I didn't peg you as the comic-book type of guy."

"I'm shocked. I thought you would have known everything there was to know about me, considering you've known me for two whole days," Magnus rolled his eyes.

"Alright, save the chitchat for later. Sunrise is in an hour," Catarina said briskly. "Raphael and Ragnor, take point please. I'm with Simon. Magnus will watch our backs. Remember, our aim is to sneak in and sneak back out - don't engage unless necessary."

Simon took one last apprehensive look at the run-down exterior of the hospital. "Pretty sure I've watched a horror movie with this plot before," Simon muttered.

The shadowhunter team moved swiftly, a well-oiled war machine communicating with glances and gestures; Simon was reminded of the SWAT teams he saw on television. Ragnor took down the rusty door on the fence with a rune, Raphael ready to help catch the falling weight, then they kept low as they travelled across the weed-strangled front garden to the heavy stone porch that hid the front door.

Ragnor made short work of the door, but the interior was forbidding - all Simon could see in the near-darkness was crumbling walls and rotten stairwells. The floors were sandy with brick dust and littered with wayward vegetation. In fact, Simon could see a small mountain of debris in the shadows a distance away, where the floor above had completely given way.

Raphael stepped forward gingerly, keeping to the side of the walls. He made his way to the nearest staircase, keen eyes trained on the floor - he seemed to be following a path Simon couldn't see. He took one step, testing his weight, then another; then swiftly moved up the rest of the stairs, moving out of their line of sight. Ragnor was following Raphael in a flash. He turned back to nod and wave the rest of them forward.

They made it all the way up to the third floor pretty easily - too easily, and even Simon could see that. Everyone was on edge now as every move forward was met with no resistance other than the natural decay of the building. They headed down the left wing, where they had seen the light in the window - even the floor on this level was in a much better state than the rest, with only one cave-in right at the end of the wing. 

Raphael and Ragnor tried door after door along the corridors, and most of them swung open easily, until they were almost midway down the hallway. The locked door was in a better shape than the rest, although still battered and cracked with age. Ragnor opened the door with a rune, and pushed it open gently. Simon knew he should have been more cautious, but curiosity got the better of him and he must have leaned in a bit too much - when the door was almost halfway open, something came flying out of the room hit Simon in the shoulder.

  

Simon flinched, expecting severe pain or something nasty like a dismembered, strangling hand, but the projectile weapon turned out to be a shoe - a very familiar shoe. Raphael had already whipped out his seraph blade. 

"Stay away from us!" Simon heard a _very_ familiar voice scream.

"Rebecca?" Simon was through the doorway before the rest of the shadowhunters could stop him.

His mother and sister were huddled together on a threadbare and very dirty bed, his sister curled around his mother protectively with her other shoe in her hand and held out like a weapon. There was a rickety table by the bed that held the candle they had seen from the outside, almost burnt out now. He rushed towards them without a thought and hugged them tightly, dizzy with relief and joy.

"Simon? Is it really you?" his mother gasped. The small family clung on to each other.

"How did you get in here? How did you know where to find us?" Rebecca asked through tears.

"I had help," Simon turned around to indicate his new friends. Catarina gave them a small, wary smile. Raphael and Ragnor were eyeing Simon's sister and mother suspiciously, and Magnus was lurking outside the room in the shadows.

"How do we you really are Simon's mother and sister?" Raphael challenged, his blade still glowing in his hand.

"What?" Rebecca asked indignantly.

"You could be shape-shifters wearing his family's face," Raphael said, eyes darting to Simon. "Prove that you are who you say you are."

" _Shape-shifters_?! What the-"

"Ok, yeah, I get that you are just trying to protect me," Simon told Raphael, suddenly very aware of the danger he had put himself in. That he was even considering Raphael's words as possible truth just showed how messed up his week - heck, his whole _life_ had become. He tried to step back subtly and smiled uneasily at his mother and sister. "Just humour him, ok? Um... what's my favourite food?"

"Are you serious right now?" Rebecca demanded.

"Ziti from Giuseppi’s round the corner," Simon's mother answered easily, looking thoroughly confused.

Rebecca frowned at Simon, then at Raphael. "And you always hog all the garlic knots, and you prefer the ziti fridge-cold, you freak."

"It's them, guys, it's them," Simon assured the rest as he heaved a sigh of relief of his own and moved to hug his mother and sister again.

"What's going on?" Rebecca demanded. "First I was kidnapped on my way back to the dorm from class and brought to this creepy-ass place, then this douchbag who claimed to be our father said he had to do a test which somehow involved putting a freaking _tattoo_ on my arm-"

"Wait, you met our father?" Simon squeaked. "And what do you mean tattoo?"

"This!" Rebecca scowled, and pulled up her sleeve to show a design on her arm - a design Simon was pretty sure he had seen all over the Institute. He looked at Raphael for help, but it was Ragnor who answered: "The _enkeli_ rune. It's one of the first runes given to shadowhunter children."

At the same time, Rebecca noticed the runes on Simon and the other shadowhunters and gasped. "Holy shit, Simon, you have them too! All of you have them! What the hell is going on?!"

"Look, Rebecca, I can explain... Um. It's kind of a long story..." Simon fumbled for the right words.

"Your biological father is not fully human. Therefore, you, his children, are not either. Basically, that's it," Magnus cut in impatiently from outside the room. "Now, how about we all adjourn to somewhere more cozy to continue this conversation? Preferably somewhere with copious amounts of alcohol, because we're all going to need it."

Simon's mother and sister didn't need much cajoling to leave the room, seeing as they had been shut in there for almost a week with only the bare necessities. The moment Rebecca stepped over of the threshold of the room, however, Simon was suddenly aware of a shift in the air. He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but something was suddenly horribly wrong, and all his relief at finding his sister and mother none the worse for wear fizzled out. 

Simon wasn't the only one to notice this, it seemed - the four shadowhunters had their weapons out and flanked the Lewis family, eyes searching the shadows.

"Removing your family must have triggered a ward," Catarina said grimly, gripping her bō staff. "Move towards the stairs - it's the only way out of here."

They had barely taken a few steps when what Simon had mistaken for a pile of debris at the end of the hallway rose. Immediately, Simon recognised the nauseating smell of dead things.

It was a Forsaken warrior, skin corpse-pale and blue in the early morning light filtering through the broken roof. Then he saw another one rising, and another-

"I think we can take them on, three on three," Magnus said through gritted teeth. "Go on, Catarina, take them and get out of here-"

"Not so fast, boy," said a voice from the shadows. "The prodigal son returns at last! Surely he would like to meet his father? I have been looking forward to seeing you, Simon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the tags, because no squinting needed to see Saphael XD


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

"You don't get to call yourself our father," Rebecca seethed. "You weren't even in our lives. Mum worked her fingers to the bone to provide for us, and you left her - left _us_ \- when Simon wasn't even born. At the most you can consider yourself a sperm donor, nothing more." 

"Rebecca, please," Simon's mother said, pained, but with a hint of steel in her voice.

The man moved out of the shadows, walking easily past the Forsaken. He was a short man, stout, with neatly clipped dark hair and beard. Runes peeked out from the edges of his suit collar, and even Simon, who admittedly had no sense of fashion whatsoever, could identify it as the douchiest suit he had ever seen in his life. Simon immediately saw that he had his father's nose and face structure, as did Rebecca. Simon's mother gave a muffled gasp, and Simon held her hand tightly, trying to comfort her. 

"It's nice to see you again, Elaine," their father smiled insincerely.

"I wish I could say the same, Barnabas," Simon's mother replied coldly.

"Barnabas?" Simon couldn't help echoing in disgust. "You married a guy with the same name as a purple dinosaur?" Rebecca gave a brief snort of laughter.

Elaine and Barnabas ignored their outburst, locked in a stand-off of their own.

"What do you want with us?" 

"Can't a father show interest in his children?"

"By kidnapping us and imprisoning us? You left, in the middle of the night. No note, no calls - I thought you were dead, all these years."

"It was time for me to leave," Barnabas shrugged callously. "I was in hiding, when I married you. But duty called, and I couldn't possibly stay there and play house with a mundane."

"What did you just call us?" Rebecca bristled. 

"Oh, not _you_ ," Barnabas said dismissively. "I must admit I was disappointed that your mother went back to using her maiden name." 

"Did you seriously think Mum was going to keep using your name when you basically abandoned us?" Simon asked angrily. "Besides, as I understand it, the Hale family name is shit now thanks to you."

"Look at you, boy," Barnabas chuckled. "All decked out in gear and runes, and it hasn't even been a week. It's like I always said - blood will tell." 

"Again - what do you want with us?"

"I just wanted us to be family again, boy."

"Bullshit," Simon spat. Barnabas laughed loudly. 

"Well, you got me. Let's just say I owed Asmodeus a little something, and he agreed to let bygones be bygones if I handed my two shadowhunter children over to join his army. Lent me some muscle and demons too, to make the job easier." Barnabas indicated the Forsaken behind him. 

"Asmodeus is dead," Magnus said evenly from behind them. With all his family drama going on, Simon had almost forgotten about them.

Barnabas turned his gaze to the tall shadowhunter, eyes narrowed shrewdly as he sized him up.

"You'd be his whelp then," Barnabas nodded. "You've got his eyes." 

"Yeah, I keep them in a jar under my bed," Magnus deadpanned.

"You've been keeping illustrious company, my son," Barnabas sneered, ignoring Magnus' snark. "You'll fit right in with Asmodeus' army, since you've got the connections."

"Wait, let's get this straight - you want to use us as collateral to pay back a loan you owe to a dead guy?" Simon asked. Not for the first time, he wondered if perhaps Barnabas was a bit insane.

"He's not dead," Barnabas scoffed.

"We don't believe you," Ragnor spoke up. "The Clave found his body in the Bane Manor after he was defeated."

"Yes, burnt to a crisp. _Burnt beyond recognition_ ," Barnabas laughed. "Did they leave that part out of the history books they teach you from these days?"

The shadowhunters exchanged uneasy glances. Ragnor placed a hand on Magnus' shoulder.

"Say you're telling the truth - are you telling us that he's building an army? That he's planning another uprising?" Magnus asked.

"Sure," Barnabas shrugged. "He's a stubborn bastard, wasn't going to give up his ideals that easily."

"And what makes him think he will succeed this time?"

"He has the Mortal Cup this time, and he who wields the Mortal Cup controls the Shadow World."

There was a collective gasp of shock at that. Simon glanced at Magnus; his jaw was tight, shoulders tensed under Ragnor's comforting hand.

"If you're telling us all this, won't you get into trouble with Asmodeus?" Magnus pointed out.

Barnabas laughed uproariously at that. "You think anybody is going to believe a bunch of kids?" His grin turned shark-like. "Besides, what makes you think you're going to get a chance to tell anyone?"

A chill ran down Simon's spine. The shadowhunters surrounding his family tensed. 

"It was nice to catch up, but I'm afraid I'm a busy man," Barnabas curled his lips in a sneer. He raised his voice, addressing the Forsaken warriors that had stood motionless all through the conversation: "Take the children of my blood, and the tallest boy, to _him_. Kill the spares." 

He smirked at them, twisted a silver ring on his finger - and blinked out of existence.

 

Simon's mother let out a small scream. "Did he just disappear into thin air?!" Rebecca shrieked. 

Simon and the other shadowhunters had other things on their minds. Simon had seen firsthand just how fast the Forsaken could move. They were already lumbering towards the group like someone had suddenly turned their switches on.

Simon had an arrow strung in his bow as quickly as he could, and let it fly - it hit the nearest one in the eye, and Simon winced when the eyeball made a squishing sound like a squashed tomato, but still the creature kept coming.  

"They don't really feel pain, you're going to have to deal a fatal blow to stop it," Raphael advised, palming his own set of throwing knives. Simon let another arrow fly, this time aiming for the head, and Raphael took the next one down with a knife in its throat.

With a dawning sense of horror, Simon realised he heard noises coming from the right wing and down below as well - there must be more than these three Forsaken in the building. They had walked right into a trap!

"Simon and I will take out the ones on this level, _move move move_!" Raphael shouted.

Magnus took the lead now, dashing down the stairs with a seraph blade blazing in each hand.

"Simon!" his mother cried out as Ragnor and Catarina tried to herd them down the stairs.

"I'm not going to be a sitting duck!" Rebecca snarled, suddenly by his side. "Give me one of your weapons, Si."

Simon hesitated for a split second, then handed Rebecca one of the seraph blades from his belt; it flared to life at her touch. "Now _go_!

When this was over, Simon swore he would never play another zombie apocalypse game as long as he lived. He was firing his arrows as fast as he could, the accuracy rune burning like a brand on his arm, but the Forsaken were still coming too close for comfort. He could hear roars and yells coming from downstairs, but he couldn't stop to let himself think about what was happening to his friends and family; he could only trust that the shadowhunters knew what they were doing, that they had trained their whole lives for this. 

The smell of blood was overwhelming. The brutish, vacant stares of the Forsaken seared into his memory as his arrows and Raphael's knives found their marks. The creatures seemed to bleed black in the blue light of the approaching dawn, the runes that had been seared on their skin livid and lesion-like. Simon tried not to remember that they had been normal human beings once, people with dreams, futures, loved ones.

By the time they had brought down the last of the Forsaken warriors on the third storey, Simon was shaking. He had a handful of arrows left in his quiver, and Raphael had run out of throwing knives. The other boy clapped one hand on Simon's shoulder, a solid grounding sensation in what had been the most surreal (minutes? hours?) of his life so far, then hurried down the stairs.

The second storey was quiet, littered with severed limbs and the corpses of Forsaken warriors. When they reached the first floor of the ruins, Simon saw that the front door was wide open and sounds of fighting could be heard from the garden outside. He tried to ignore the long smear of blood on one of the walls as he followed Raphael out into the weak sunrise.

Simon remembered Catarina telling him that demons could not stand the sun, but the Forsaken obviously had no such problem. There were still almost a dozen of them, twisted and humped but still humanoid. The Forsaken made almost no noise, but the sounds of clashing metal and the shouts of the shadowhunters would surely draw attention. Forget trying to explain what the hell was going on before people started calling in the NYPD - how would they be able to keep the creatures away from nosy witnesses?

Some of the creatures fighting in the yard of the hospital ruins were armed, like the one they had encountered in Simon's house, which was probably why they were still standing against the truly lethal force which was Magnus in battle mode. It was like watching a dance - Magnus was a whirlwind of flashing metal, moving almost too quickly for Simon to follow as he stabbed and slashed. Simon watched transfixed as Magnus leapt into the air, bringing his twin blades up and then down with a vicious scissoring movement - and a Forsaken's head tumbled free of its neck, black blood spurting. 

Catarina and Ragnor were also holding their own, a task made more difficult because they were also trying to shield Simon's mother and sister. There were at least five creatures trying to get at them, one hacking at Catarina with a crude axe in one arm while the other arm lay on the ground a metre away, blood pulsing from the stump. The blade Rebecca had borrowed from Simon was bloodied, and she was swiping clumsily at any Forsaken that got too close. Ragnor was favouring his left, and had a bloody gash on his face - perhaps he was so used to having his parabatai by his side that he had misstepped, and Simon felt a surge of guilt. Simon and Raphael ran towards them, Simon slipping on the grass that was slick with blood, brackish as swamp water.

"Ragnor, behind you!" Raphael shouted out suddenly.

Simon watched in horror as a Forsaken loomed behind Ragnor, its scarred face twisted into a rictus grin. Ragnor had half-turned, but his injury was slowing him down; he wouldn't be able to defend himself in time. Raphael was throwing himself forward desperately, but in the end it was Magnus who got to Ragnor first - Magnus leapt in front of Ragnor, and took the rusty blade meant for him in his shoulder. 

Magnus dropped one of his seraph blades, but managed to run through the attacking creature with his other blade before he collapsed on one knee. Raphael, cursing steadily in Spanish, took his place in the protective circle surrounding the Lewis family, and Simon spun to face the advancing Forsaken as well so Catarina, who had the most medical expertise, could check on Magnus.

"Well, at least it missed the lung – you can’t argue with that for luck," Magnus said through gritted teeth, his breath whistling in and grunting out again around a liquid cough.  

"Magnus, I'm not an idiot," Catarina scolded gently, quickly completing an iratze on his shoulder. His breathing eased up immediately, but evidently a punctured lung wasn't something that healed easily even for the nephilim. 

"We're still outnumbered, and with Magnus down, we're going to need an escape plan," Ragnor called back over his shoulder.

"Luckily for all of us, I have just made friends with a warlock," Magnus grinned through bloodied teeth. "I hope Alexander is up for another date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, please feel free to come holler at me on tumblr @la-muerta


	8. Chapter 8

 

Magnus had never felt more anxious about going through a Portal, and it wasn't because of the half dozen Forsaken they were leaving behind, or even the fact that some clichéd moustache-twirling villain character claiming to be Simon's father had let slip that Magnus' father might possibly be still alive. 

Spending the night at Alec’s place sorting out potions ingredients had been... Well, Magnus wouldn't lie and say it had been fun, because it was dreary work and his jeans were probably irreparably stained. But it hadn't _not_ been fun either, because spending time with Alexander - flirting shamelessly at him to make him blush, finding out interesting facts about various ingredients, or even just going through the tedious work in companionable silence - had been so painfully domestic that it made Magnus' heart ache. 

Typical, Magnus chided himself. Something comes up to threaten our entire world, and you're freaking out over a boy. 

It had felt right, it had felt like home. Being with Alexander was easy. He didn't talk much, content to let Magnus fill the silence with his outrageous stories. Magnus was aware that the warlock was very private, so he had been worried about overstaying his welcome, but Alexander hadn't seemed to mind. 

When Magnus had said goodbye last night (this morning?), with a joking offer for a goodnight kiss, he could have sworn he had seen Alexander's gaze flicker to Magnus' lips before he'd blushed furiously and closed the door with a quiet "Goodnight, Magnus." Magnus had then briefly wondered if it was possible for someone to remain in the closet for 400 years, even though just trying to imagine it made him shudder. 

Magnus was only far too aware that he gave his heart too fast, too easily. Ragnor claimed he always saw the best in other people at the expense of himself, but Ragnor was prone to psychobabble, so Magnus tended to ignore him.  

He heard the roar of the thwarted Forsaken behind them as the Portal closed off, and his stomach lurched in the confusing whirl of displacement that came from magical transport before the Portal spat them out on to Alexander's living room carpet. Magnus was shivering, the adrenaline of the battle wearing off and the pain in his chest much worse now. What was it called again - hemothorax? Some fancy name for drowning in his own blood. He struggled to remember the medical terms he had seen in a mundane medical book as his teeth chattered, fighting to stay conscious.

"You didn't tell me Portal travel was going make me want to barf," Simon said from next to him, looking distinctly green. "Is there, like, a YouTube tutorial I can watch?"

"A YouTube tutorial wouldn't help your body get used to the disorientation caused by annihilating and rebuilding your body at a subatomic level," Alec frowned as he rushed over to support Magnus. Simon blinked, brain spacing out from the scientific jargon that had unexpectedly spilled out of the warlock's mouth.

"Oh, talk science to me, baby," Magnus laughed a little breathlessly, and immediately started choking.

"Help me put him here," Alec ordered Simon, brisk and business-like, gesturing to the nearest couch. "Izzy, could you please see to the rest of them?" 

Elaine Lewis was staring in bewilderment at her surroundings, and with a start Simon realised that his mother recognised the place - after all, she had brought him here when he was a child to have his memories of the Shadow World blocked.

"Dr Lightwood?" Elaine Lewis asked hesitantly. 

"Um. Yes. About that..." Alec rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I'll explain, I promise. But I need to see to Magnus first."

Alec turned back to his patient. With quick, efficient gestures, Alec sent his magic into Magnus' body, nudging at the wounds to urge them to heal, and quickly vanishing the blood that was pooling in his chest cavity. Next, he gave a gentle push to Magnus' lung, coaxing it back into shape. His efforts were rewarded with a healthy, full inhale of air from Magnus.

"There. You're going to be ok," Alec told Magnus gently.

"Sorry. This isn't what I had in mind when I said I'd take you out on a proper date the next time I saw you," Magnus said softly. Alec huffed out a laugh, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

"We'll save it for when you get better, alright?" Alec said with a wry smile. 

"Is that a promise, Alexander?" Magnus cracked open one eye to peer at Alec.

Alec smiled at Magnus, a small lopsided grin, and nodded. "Now, rest."

 

The rest of the team had their fair share of injuries, but none as serious as Magnus. Simon and his family had some scratches and bruises, and his mother and sister were suffering from a bit of malnutrition from the week they had spent imprisoned in the ruins. Catarina had several nasty cuts, and Ragnor had suffered a concussion from when a Forsaken had thrown him into a wall, as well as a deep cut at his ribs where Simon had felt like barfing all over again when he realised he could see bone. Isabelle did her best to help with the pain relief and minor healing spells, and they did the best they could with iratzes. Raphael, though, refused to let anybody except Ragnor help with the horrific lacerated wound on his forearm where one of the Forsaken had almost bitten his arm off in an attempt to make him let go of his seraph blade.

"A Forsaken wound often needs a little warlock 'TLC'. May I?" Isabelle Lightwood smiled at Raphael and reached out for his arm.

"I'm _fine_ ," Raphael bit out, snatching his arm out of her reach.

Isabelle pouted but let it go. "I'll get some food and drinks for everybody then."

"Most definitely not," Alec said firmly, getting up from Magnus' side. "I'll do it."

"Even I can make grilled cheese sandwiches and heat up canned soup!" Isabelle protested.

"No, you actually can't," Alec called back, disappearing into the kitchen. Isabelle just made a rude gesture in her brother's direction, which made Rebecca exchange a look with Simon and giggle. Apparently 400-year-old siblings behaved the same way as 20-year-old siblings.

"He's actually going to cook?" Simon asked in amazement. "Can't you guys just... you know, magic stuff up?"

"Where from?" Isabelle laughed. "Everything has to come from somewhere. Are you suggesting that I steal the breakfast buffet from a nice five-star hotel when I have a room full of shadowhunters as witnesses?"

"This shadowhunter honestly wouldn't mind," Simon said. "Everyone else in favour of the motion, say 'aye'."

"Well, well - baby's first words. You don't get to call yourself a shadowhunter quite yet, _chico_ ," Raphael smirked at Simon. "Although you did quite well with your bow back there."

"Wait - 'shadowhunter'? What does that mean?" Rebecca interrupted.

"We're demon slayers. We're called Shadowhunters - or at least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us," Raphael said with a knowing smirk at Isabelle. She shrugged in a "what can you do about it" sort of gesture.

"Downworlders?"

"Vampires, warlocks, werewolves, faeries. The supernatural creatures of this dimension."

Elaine Lewis turned pale and glanced towards the kitchen. "So when Simon was a child, and he said he saw all those things..."

"Simon was apparently born with the Sight," Catarina nodded. "Not all shadowhunter children are." 

"And Dr Lightwood?" Elaine asked nervously. "He doesn't look a day over twenty, and he looks exactly the same as he did when I came here more than a decade ago." 

"My brother and I are warlocks," Isabelle explained gently. "We are immortal, and we stop aging after a certain point. My brother makes it a point to help mundanes with supernatural problems, it's kind of his speciality. And don't worry - he does actually have that medical degree he says he has," Isabelle winked.

"Alright, say I believe you, that all these things exist - what's that got to do with Simon and I?" Rebecca frowned. "Last I checked, I didn't discuss a career in demon slaying with my career guidance counsellor."

"Being a shadowhunter isn't just a career choice, it's in your blood," Catarina explained patiently to Rebecca. "We are sometimes called the Nephilim - our ancestors drank from a Cup containing the blood of the Angel Raziel, and so their children, and their children's children, inherited that angelic blood as well. Barnabas Hale was one of the Nephilim, so you are both Nephilim as well."

"I find it hard to believe that the douche-bag that claimed to be our father is part- _angel_ ," Rebecca scoffed. 

"And part-human, remember?" Ragnor pointed out. "In that lies our capacity for both good and evil."

"It is our choices that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities." Simon quoted. Raphael raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just quoting Dumbledore. Um. Harry Potter? Never mind..." 

"Ok, and from your conversation with - well, I'm just going to call him Douche-bag, capital 'D' from now on, because I'll be damned if I'm going to call him my father - that 'mortal cup' that he mentioned is this angel blood cup you're talking about?" Rebecca asked. Catarina nodded.

"And you guys just _lost_ the thing?!"

"See, that's what _I_ said!" Simon reached over to give his sister a high-five. 

"And for the last time, we didn't _lose_ it," Raphael scowled. Ragnor tutted because he was trying to apply another iratze and Raphael was moving around too much.

"Ok, yes, according to Douche-bag, some guy called Asmodeus has it?" Rebecca recalled.

"What?" Isabelle gasped.

"You know, maybe we shouldn't be discussing shadowhunter business in front of downworlders," Raphael muttered to Catarina under his breath.

"Asmodeus? As in Asmodeus Bane?" Isabelle hissed.

"Barnabas Hale mentioned his name in passing, but I'm sure you would agree he is hardly the most reliable source of information," Catarina said reasonably. 

"You don't get to keep information like that to yourselves, little Nephilim," Isabelle snarled. "This affects the entire Shadow World, not just the shadowhunters."

"Yes, but this is just a rumour, we have no solid proof-"

"You had no solid proof that Asmodeus was dead, and yet you believed it," Alec said quietly, drawn out of the kitchen by the commotion in the living room.

"There were remains in the Bane Manor, and it was wearing the Bane family ring." 

"He could have put the ring on a corpse and burnt that body," Simon pointed out. "You've said it yourself, you don't have DNA records of shadowhunters from that generation. I somehow doubt they had dental records either." 

"Seriously? This is like the most basic plot ever - evil villain faking his death and laying low until he feels he has another opportunity to take over the world, or whatever it is this Asmodeus guy wants," Rebecca groaned. "Don't you people read story books or watch movies?" 

"Yeah, surprisingly more similar to Harry Potter than you'd expect," Simon told his sister. "Apparently he wants to get rid of all the half-demon people in the world."

"If you're Harry Potter, I want to be Hermione Granger."

"Hey, this isn't a pretty fairytale or silly mundane story," Raphael barked. "There's no happily ever after, no hero coming to save the world. This is our lives, our reality."

"Ok, geez," Simon held his hands up in surrender. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"What else did Hale have to say about Asmodeus?" Alec demanded.

"He didn't say much," Catarina hedged. "Just that he owed Asmodeus something, that he was going to give him his children as payment. And that Asmodeus was supposedly in possession of the Mortal Cup."

"I'm calling bluff on that one, because if he had the Mortal Cup, he wouldn't need to make all those Forsaken - he could just make shadowhunters," Ragnor said. 

"But the Cup works better on children," Raphael reminded him. "Maybe he turned the adults and kept the children." 

Rebecca gasped in horror. "You think he's kidnapping whole families and turning the parents into those _things_ , while he trains the children into his own personal shadowhunter army?!"

"Let's not get carried away with guesses and wild theories," Catarina begged. "We promise we would tell you more if we knew anything."

"And why would you do that?" Alec challenged. "Shadowhunters are not known for being open with the Downworld."

"Why wouldn't we?" Magnus said, startling everyone. "The Downworld wants him dead. The Clave wants him dead. Seems like the more people who know about him faking his death, the more people we'll have keeping an eye out for him, and the faster we can put him back in the grave where he belongs."

"Magnus, you can't mean that," Catarina said sadly.

" _Everyone_ wants Asmodeus dead. I, more than anyone," Magnus said bitterly.

"And why is that so?" Alec asked cautiously.

"Because my mother is dead because of him. She hung herself, rather than face the fact that she'd married a monster," Magnus spat.  

"Your mother," Alec repeated blankly. "You are Asmodeus' son."

Simon was suddenly aware of static in the air, a rising prickling feeling that made him think of thunderstorms and lightning.  

"I think all of you should leave now," Alec said, his voice strained.

"Alexander?" Magnus struggled to rise from the couch, face twisted in confusion.

"I said _leave_ ," Alec roared, and the world exploded into a painful cacophony of blue sparks.

Simon tucked his head into his chest to avoid the blast, and found himself tumbling onto the sidewalk in front of the Lightwoods' apartment moments later. 

"What the hell just happened?" Simon asked in bewilderment.

"Let's go," Magnus said quietly, wincing as Catarina put an arm around him. "I think the High Warlock of Brooklyn has just made himself very clear that we are no longer welcome here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Apparently the course of true love is filled with a lot of angst.


	9. Chapter 9

 

Magnus tried not to fidget while Catarina delivered her report to the Head of the New York Institute - standing at ease never felt natural to him, despite years of training. He had been released from the infirmary with a clean bill of health a few hours ago; Alexander's spellwork was truly remarkable. The room was a little stuffy, the fireplace blazing despite the heat of the afternoon. Magnus stared unseeing at the mural of the Angel Raziel that adorned the stained glass window behind the ornate wooden desk, and tried not to think.

"There were no signs of the Forsaken warriors by the time the backup team arrived at Renwick. Not even the bodies of the ones you claim to have fought," Thora Fell told them, closing the report that sat in front of her on the desk. 

" _Claim_ to have fought?! Mother, Raphael almost lost his arm!" Ragnor said indignantly.  

"I'm not saying we don't believe you, Ragnor. Just that there was no evidence to support your report," Thora said calmly. "Even the grass in the front yard was untouched."

"Surely there are spells that would hide their tracks," Catarina frowned. "What about traces of demonic activity?" 

"Places like Renwick draw demons naturally," Thora reminded them. "There was so much pain, so much death..." She shook her head sadly. "How are you feeling, Magnus?" 

"Right as rain. All healed up. Not even much of a scar," Magnus assured her. 

"I'll be sure to send High Warlock Lightwood a note of thanks and expedite his payment for coming to your aid so quickly," Thora smiled. 

"That would probably be best," Magnus agreed, pointedly ignoring the looks the others shot him.  

"I'm speaking not just of your physical health though," Thora said kindly. "It mustn't have been easy for you to hear Barnabas Hale claim that your father is still alive."

"There's no solid evidence," Magnus shrugged, but in his head he could hear Alec saying _You had no solid proof that Asmodeus was dead, and yet you believed it_. 

"The Clave will want to look into this immediately, especially if there's a possibility that the Cup is with him," Thora said reluctantly. "I want you to be prepared for that."

"Are you sending me to Idris?" Magnus asked, immediately hating how weak he sounded. He wasn't a 10-year-old at the mercy of the Clave anymore; he was a man, one of the best soldiers the Clave had. They would find it a lot harder to get rid of him like an inconvenient liability now. 

Thora looked shocked. She stood up from her desk immediately and walked over to him. "No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"If Asmodeus is really back, the Clave will want to keep a closer eye on me. They will want me to prove my loyalty," Magnus said quietly. 

"Sigurd and I raised you as our own since you were a boy. You are family; your loyalty was never in question," Thora said fiercely. "If the Clave has a problem with that, they will have to get through us first."

"They say blood will tell. How can you be so sure?" Magnus asked quietly. 

"You are _our_ son in all the ways that matter," said Thora firmly, pulling Magnus close for a hug. "Don't you ever forget that."

He was so much taller than her now, for Thora Fell was a tiny woman with the heart of a lion. The first time she had met him, when the Fells had finally volunteered to take him in, he was a scrawny thing that barely reached her chest. Now he had to slouch and fold himself almost double to wrap his arms around her shoulders. 

"Thanks, Mrs F," Magnus mumbled into her shoulder, and finally allowed himself to relax into her embrace. 

 

"What happens now?" Rebecca asked Simon. 

Their mother was fast asleep, exhausted from everything that had happened over the past week, and the Lewis siblings were sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed, talking in hushed whispers. It reminded Simon of a simpler time, before all this shadowhunter business of course, but also before Rebecca had gone away to college - before puberty had hit and made hanging out with his sister awkward.

"Mrs Fell - that's Ragnor's mother, she's the Head of the New York Institute - said she's sent a message to the Clave. We might have to meet an envoy to find out what they plan to do with us, and she said we will probably have to get checked out by the Silent Brothers to make sure we're both in good physical health despite not taking our super-special shadowhunter vitamins."

"Silent Brothers?" Rebecca wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, don't ask - they are _way_ creepy," Simon shuddered.

"So this is it? We're stuck in the demon slaying business?" Rebecca asked softly. "Like could I go back to college instead?"

"Catarina says we should stay here, for now at least," Simon said gloomily. "After this blows over, I think you can renounce your shadowhunter-ness and go and live a normal life if you want to. They'll have to deactivate your runes, which is apparently really painful, but you've only got that one rune, so..."

"What about you?" Rebecca asked. "Are you planning to stay here, with them?" She eyed his arms - Simon had actually managed to use up all the temporary runes Catarina had given him, leaving silvery scars all over his arms. 

"If you leave and I stay, I won't ever be able to communicate with you and Mum again, you know?" Simon said dully. "They've got rules against that."

"That sucks," Rebecca said, hugging herself.

"Tell me about it," Simon said. "Also, this shadowhunter business seems a lot like never-ending gym class, and you know how I feel about gym. Very stabby gym class, I'll grant you, but..."

"You were really badass with that bow though," Rebecca grinned.

"Yeah, I was, wasn't I?" Simon grinned back at her. 

The sounds of Amy Winehouse's "Valery" suddenly broke the quiet in the room, and Simon made a mad scramble for his phone. "Shit, Clary - I promised I'd call-"

"I never pegged you for the Amy Winehouse type," Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's that bit about 'ginger hair'?" Simon shrugged as he picked up the call. "Hello - yeah, sorry... yeah, I found them-" Simon quickly pulled his ear away from the phone as Clary let out a shrill shriek that could be heard from where Rebecca was sitting. Simon complained a bit after Clary had calmed down, then smacked a palm against the side of his head. "Shit, ok, yeah, I'll get back to you, I have to check... yeah, see you."

"What was that about?" Rebecca asked curiously.

"Clary just reminded me that there's still a missing persons notice out for you and Mum," Simon told her. "We probably ought to go down to the NYPD to get that called off?"

"Ok, we'll go when Mum's awake," Rebecca nodded.

"Problem is, I'm not sure we're allowed out of the Institute until the Clave envoy arrives," Simon sighed. "I'm going to check with Catarina." He got up nimbly and ran out of the room, closing the door carefully so he wouldn't wake their mother up. Rebecca watched him go and hugged herself tighter.

 

"Hey, Magnus, there's a warlock out in the front who wants to talk to you," someone called out, interrupting Catarina, who was in the middle of handing out one of her dreaded colour-coded rosters for patrol duty.

Magnus nodded and stood up, trying to pretend his heart wasn't doing the congo in his chest.

"Not a word," he warned Ragnor and Catarina, waggling a finger at them. Thankfully, Raphael was still in the infirmary for his arm wound, because Magnus was certainly not in the mood for a snide remark from him.

Magnus strolled as nonchalantly as he could to the entrance of the Institute, and tried not to feel too disappointed when he saw Isabelle Lightwood leaning against the bannister of the front steps in a form-fitting red dress the exact shade of the red jewel in her forehead. 

"Warlock Lightwood," Magnus greeted her politely. 

"Oh don't 'Warlock Lightwood' me, it's Isabelle to you," she said with a small smile. "Could we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere more private?"

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "I could check if the Sanctuary is occupied at the moment," he offered, indicating the side door that led to a small area in the Institute that had been specially built on unhallowed ground, usually used for official meetings with downworlders.

Isabelle wrinkled her nose delicately. "How about somewhere more neutral? I was thinking Switzerland - there's a lovely little cafe I know of..." 

Magnus laughed, charmed. At least one of the Lightwoods was still talking to him. "Sure." 

Isabelle grinned and opened a Portal with a elegant twirl of her fingers. She held out one hand to him, and Magnus took it easily, stepping through the Portal with her.

It was night time in Switzerland. They strolled in silence until they came upon a quaint little cafe that was almost empty since it was a weekday night. 

"I take it, from the fact that you're asking me out for coffee, that you don't mind that I'm a Bane," Magnus said after they had put in their order for coffee. 

"Well, we're warlocks. Human mother, demon father - I guess you could say we know all too well the feeling of having a father we have no love for," Isabelle shrugged. "We don't choose our parents."

"Your brother doesn't seem to agree," Magnus observed. 

"Asmodeus Bane is... Well, it's personal, for both me and Alec," Isabelle admitted. 

"From Alexander's reaction, I did guess that it was more than the usual distaste for my father's xenophobic tendencies," Magnus said. 

Isabelle looked down and stirred her coffee absent-mindedly. "It's because of Max."

"Was he family?" Magnus asked gently.  

"He was a warlock too, and he was like a younger brother to us. We found him - well, we found each other when Alec and I were around 30-years-old. He was all alone, and we had left our mother by then..."

"What was he like?"

"Full of life," Isabelle answered sadly. She was silent for a while, then she asked, "How much do you know about the Circle that Asmodeus led?" 

Magnus frowned. "I know the Circle tried to prevent the signing of the Accords by smuggling demonic weapons into the Great Hall with the intention of slaughtering all the Downworld leaders. Somehow, the Consul got wind of the plan and managed to stop them with the aid of several downworlders."

Isabelle nodded. "Before all that happened, there were already signs of trouble brewing. The Circle would come into a city and slaughter random downworlders for no reason, then claim that these downworlders had broken the Accords and that they were just delivering justice."

"As High Warlock, part of Alexander's duties include managing the safehouses in his territory. I assume this is where the story is going?" Magnus mused. 

Isabelle nodded. "Max had a heart of gold, but he wasn't the most powerful of warlocks. One of the nights that he was over at our place, there was a distress signal from one of the safehouses. Alec was busy with a client, so Max answered the call, without our knowledge. 

"It was a massacre. Max just wasn't a match for the Circle, and the werewolf family that had called for help didn't make it either. But at least they had clean deaths. 

"When we found him..." Isabelle looked away, a tear running down her cheek at the memory. "They didn't just kill him outright. He must have been still alive when they'd done... done some of the things they did to him. There was so much blood everywhere..." 

"By the angel," Magnus felt sick. "I'm so sorry, Isabelle."

"Rumour is that Asmodeus cut out Max's warlock mark by his own hand. He has a particular hatred for warlocks."

Magnus looked down and shook his head. His fist clenched under the table. 

"I think Alec blames himself, mostly," Isabelle sighed.  

Magnus' head snapped up at that. "But it wasn't his fault!" 

"You are welcome to try and convince my pig-headed brother of that," Isabelle snorted. "Anyway. Alec has always had a deep mistrust of shadowhunters, but after that..." 

"I don't blame him," Magnus murmured. "I'm surprised he gave me the time of the day at all then."

"You are probably the first person outside of family that he's let get close to him in almost a century," Isabelle confessed. 

"And now he probably thinks I tricked him, concealed my identity to get close to him," Magnus guessed. "I can't say he was wrong though. I never did tell him I was a Bane, and I tend not to because of the type of reaction it gets from downworlders and shadowhunters alike."  

"My big brother is an idiot," Isabelle huffed. "Please don't let him do this to himself. You are good for him, I know it." 

"We were friends for all of what, half a day?" Magnus asked wryly. 

"When you have seen your own brother been miserable in his own skin for four centuries, you will not discount the value of a few hours of happiness," Isabelle said seriously.  

"Thank you for telling me all this, Isabelle," Magnus smiled sadly at her. "But in the end this is Alec's choice to make, and I think he has made his choice."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Homophobic/queerphobic language and behaviour from a minor character.

 

Simon hadn't been expecting to see Magnus waiting for them in the training room, because training clumsy newbies didn't really seem to be Magnus' kind of thing, but he supposed Catarina could be very persuasive.

He couldn't help noticing that Magnus was looking rather more glittery than usual. Magnus tended to toe the line of the shadowhunter dress code only when he was out on patrol, sticking to (mostly) black and a bit of eyeliner. Other times, one was just as likely to find him in nothing but flamboyant silk pajamas bottoms and a dressing gown. But Magnus' outfit today was edging on provocative even by his standards - he was wearing a hot pink tank top with the words "Bi Bi Bi" spelled out in red and blue sequins, black exercise tights that made it hard to look anywhere but at his toned legs and ass, and he had on some shimmery eyeshadow that seemed wasted on a training session, where they were going to get all sweaty and gross. 

"Wow," Rebecca said. "If all the shadowhunter boys look this hot, I think I'd be ok with becoming a demon slayer after all." 

Simon just swallowed and tried not to stare, because he knew Magnus would give him shit for it as usual. Too late. 

"Don't look at me like that, Sean. Your boyfriend wouldn't like it," Magnus smirked. 

"Boyfriend?" Rebecca repeated with interest. 

"Come on, Magnus, you know there's nothing going on between me and Raphael," Simon groaned. 

"I didn't say anything about Raphael, you did," Magnus said triumphantly. 

"Shut up," Simon muttered, wishing he had the guts to shoot some witty comebacks at Magnus. "Can we just go back to training? Please?"  

Two hours later, Simon was regretting even turning up for training. In fact, he was regretting all his life choices that had led to where he was right now, which was lying flat out on the tatami-covered floor of this damned training room.

They had chosen to do hand-to-hand combat today, something the Lewis siblings had decided would be useful even if they decided not to stay with the shadowhunters, and Magnus seemed to take a perverse delight in using him to demonstrate how to flip their opponents to the ground. That being said, Magnus was turning out to be a rather good instructor. He was patient when correcting their stance and form, and quickly pointed out how they could tailor their fighting styles to match their individual strengths and weaknesses. (Simon apparently had a pretty good right hook as well even though he was left-handed, and Rebecca had the advantage of being very quick on her feet.) He was a hard driver though, and Simon was currently quite certain that all his limbs had fallen off because he definitely couldn't feel them anymore. 

"Good work today, Rebecca," Magnus gave her an encouraging smile. He nudged Simon none too gently with the toe of his shoe. "Are you still with us, Scott?"

"Leave me alone," Simon mumbled. He planned to just lie here for a while. Probably the rest of the week, at least. 

"Don't die on us now, Raphael would be all heartbroken."

"Fuck off."

Magnus laughed. "I knew there was a spine in there somewhere."

There were footsteps on the hallway outside, the sharp clean sound made by sensible heels, and the door to the training room opened. Simon couldn't be bothered to summon the energy to turn his head to see who it was.

"Hi Mrs F. Is the envoy from the Clave here already?" he heard Magnus say, and bolted upright in shock.

"Yes, and he was expecting to meet you and the Lewises within the next ten minutes," Thora Fell said, frowning at the state they were all in. "Didn't I ask you to let them know, and to be prepared for the meeting?"

"We were training. I thought it would be a better use of their time than to have them worrying about the meeting," Magnus said airily.  

"You might be right," Thora agreed after a beat. She glanced at Magnus' clothes, then shook her head in exasperation. Simon thought she looked like she was trying not to smile. "Well, come along then. Best not to keep him waiting."

 

When Isabelle got back to the apartment, Alec was cleaning the damned couch again - the one Magnus had bled all over yesterday. He could have had it as clean as a whistle with a snap of his fingers, but here he was, doing it the mundane way with a damp cloth and a bucket of soapy water, scrubbing at the stupid couch for at least the third time since Alec had unceremoniously kicked everyone out of the wards. Four hundred years, and Isabelle still couldn't understand what was going on in Alec's head sometimes.

"I met Magnus today," Isabelle said softly.

The only indication that Alec had heard her was a slight tensing of his shoulders. 

"I told him about Max."

Alec let out a small grunt, but didn't rise to the bait.

Isabelle sighed. "When you're ready to talk about whatever you need to talk about, I'm here." 

"I talk to you," Alec mumbled indignantly.

"About everything but your personal life," Isabelle pointed out.

"What's there to talk about?" Alec said. "My life is you, and Jace. That's all."

"What about Magnus?"

Alec lapsed back into pointed silence, still scrubbing the couch diligently. He waited until Izzy had given up in a huff and gone off - probably to call Jace and complain about him being thick-headed - then sat back on his heels and dumped the cloth in the bucket. He had almost gotten all the blood out, but he kept finding spots of dried blood in the creases and crevices of the well-worn leather couch.

He stared at the bloody cloth and tried not to worry about Magnus, about having possibly injured the shadowhunter by banishing him from the apartment when he was still recovering and weak from blood loss. He had regretted it seconds after he'd done it, but Alec was nothing if not stubbornly and steadfastly dedicated to making his own life miserable and screwing up the one good thing that had come into his life after centuries of loneliness. 

At least now he knew Magnus must be well enough if he had been meeting Isabelle. Alec knew his sister loved Portaling all over the world for frivolous things like coffee and shopping, and that she refused to step into the shadowhunter Institutes on principle. 

He wasn't angry with Magnus, not really. Once the initial shock had worn off, he had felt slightly guilty for his outburst. The sins of the father should not be visited on their children, and Alec of all people should have known better. He supposed having Asmodeus Bane for a father wasn't really much different from having a demon for a father, when it came down to it. 

Warlocks tended to calcify as they got older, and 400 years was not something to turn your nose up at, even among warlocks. Alec was lucky that he had always had Isabelle, and then Jace (and until recently, Max - but he didn't want to think about that right now). He was aware that he was closed off, but it had gotten him through the years - emotions clouded his judgment, made things complicated. However, in the last couple of decades, even he had noticed that he had stopped being able to feel things; to care, to be excited or surprised.

Mortal beings, on the other hand, always burned so fiercely. And Magnus burned fiercer than most. Being near Magnus was like flying close to the sun after being frozen for forever - it hurt, and it consumed, but Alec couldn't pull himself away any more than he could help drawing breath. Magnus made him dream of things he had once longed for, but also made him remember things best left forgotten.  

Alec closed his eyes, fingers running gently over the surface of the couch. He steeled himself, and with a push, sent the whole couch into the ether, bloody wash cloth and all. He wasn't going to think about it anymore - couldn't and wouldn't. What good could come of associating with one of the Angel’s chosen?

 

The envoy that had been sent to interview Magnus, Simon, and Rebecca was an old man named Aldous Nix, apparently some sort of retired Inquisitor who occasionally still played an advisory role to the Clave. He looked like he was maybe in his late seventies, wore an expensive suit, and had a fine white beard and a neatly trimmed head of white hair. His hands were warped into claws from arthritis, one wrapped around the silver ball handle of a long black cane.

Catarina had once told Simon quite frankly that shadowhunters didn't really have a very long life expectancy, what with all the demon slaying and fighting the forces of darkness. The fact that this guy had hung around long enough to look this old probably meant that he hadn't really been in active duty; more of a paper pusher.

Aldous Nix frowned when he saw their sweat-soaked clothes and frankly exhausted faces, and frowned even more when he took in Magnus' entire appearance. (Simon was really impressed that Magnus' eye make-up was still mostly intact. He wondered if there was a rune for that.) 

"Is this the Bane boy?" he barked at Thora, waving a gnarled finger in Magnus' direction. 

"Yes, this is Magnus Bane. The other two are Rebecca and Simon Lewis."

"Lewis? You mean the Hale children."

"We'd prefer to go by Lewis, sir. It's our mother's maiden name," Rebecca corrected him politely. 

"The blood of the Clave is dominant, you are Hales," the old man said dismissively. "Why are you lot in such a state? Did nobody teach you to dress properly when meeting your elders?" 

"We were training, sir," Magnus replied. "As shadowhunters, it is important that we are battle-ready, and the Lewis siblings were eager to make up for lost time. I'm sure you understand."

Aldous sneered at him. "Following in your father's footsteps in spreading your corrupting influence? Surely there are more qualified and... appropriate teachers available in the Institute?"

"Magnus is our best unarmed combat fighter here, and he oversaw the training of all his peers," Thora cut in with barely controlled fury. To Simon's surprise, he saw Magnus give Thora an imperceptible shake of his head. 

"A nancy boy like him is your best fighter?" Aldous laughed incredulously. 

Simon was starting to understand why Magnus had chosen to dress in this particular way today. 

"Actually, sir, I'm bisexual, not gay," Magnus corrected him brightly. 

"Unnatural," Aldous muttered. "Although I suppose it is best if the Bane line died out. At least the Hales seem none the worse for wear despite their mundane upbringing."

Thora looked like she was resisting the urge to beat him over the head with his own cane. Frankly, Simon was surprised that she wasn't already doing that, because of what he had seen of her, she was fiercely protective of Ragnor and Magnus, and by extension Raphael and Catarina. 

"I will make a recommendation to the Clave, and I expect you to call in the Silent Brothers to examine the Hales properly. And while they're at it, perhaps they should examine the Bane boy too," Aldous continued nastily.  

Thora forced herself to escort Aldous out with some modicum of politeness, then came back to them and immediately hugged Magnus as if she could erase all the previous unpleasantness he had had to go through if she hugged him tightly enough. 

"Magnus, why do you insist on taking everything upon your shoulders?" she scolded. 

"But it was a good plan, and it worked. You saw it too, the moment you saw what I had in mind," Magnus rubbed soothing circles in her back.

"You're impossible," Thora sighed.  

"'All warfare is based on deception'," Magnus quoted. "I did pay attention to all those _Art of War_ lessons you taught, you know."

"'If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.'" Thora quoted with a wry smile. 

Magnus laughed. "You know I don't care what they think of me. I knew Aldous was the type that wouldn't take me seriously if I looked like this, and as a plus even Simon here looked perfectly normal and wholesome next to me." 

"This should get the Clave off our backs and give us time to do our own investigation," Thora nodded.  

"We'd better get cracking then," Magnus said with a wink and a smirk. "Hey, Lewises - up for round two of your training?" 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Had the world changed, or was it he who had changed?

Simon thought he would be happy to finally be free to walk out into the sunshine with his mother and his sister. He would be meeting Clary at the subway, so they could all walk to the New York City Police Department Headquarters to cancel the missing persons reports that had been made when Rebecca and his mother had been kidnapped by his douchebag father Barnabas Hale. After Aldous Nix had recommended to the Clave that Simon and Rebecca were not threats to their world and were free to seek sanctuary at the Institute for as long as they needed, Simon and Rebecca had been forced to endure a visit from a Silent Brother, but all that was over now.

Simon walked down the familiar streets of New York, but here and there something would catch his eye that jolted him out of that sense of belonging and familiarity: a shop that he could have sworn had never been there before; a cafe called Taki's in what he was sure had been an empty car park before; someone across the road with sky blue skin. They had decided this was a low risk mission, so Catarina was the only fully-trained shadowhunter with them, but Simon had requested to be properly runed up and had carefully stocked his weapons belt with Raphael's recommended "basic arsenal". He even had his bow and arrows with him, and had bullied Rebecca into at least bringing one seraph blade. Everything had to be glamoured of course, because they were going to the NYPD. Rebecca had only consented to getting one rune - the Voyance rune, which gave her the Sight, since she was Sight-blind. She was unusually quiet throughout their journey, pointedly looking away from things that reminded her of the Shadow World.

Simon relaxed a little when they finally met up with Clary - it had been far too long since he had seen his best friend face to face.

"Hey, so... I have a date tonight," Clary whispered so only Simon could hear.

"Nice," Simon grinned. "No wonder you're actually wearing a dress instead of the usual jeans and T-shirts."

"Yeah, I didn't want to let Luke know about it though, because you know he gets all weird and starts talking about bringing out his gun," Clary wrinkled her nose. "I told him I was going to hang out with you."

"I will cover for you, best friend promise - but I do _actually_ want to hang out with you at some point," Simon whispered back.

"Of course," Clary grinned at him. "You're the best, Si."

"I know."

"Oh, are we bringing out the Star Wars quotes now, is that how we're going to play this?"

Simon laughed and slung his arm around her shoulder. "I've missed you, you know."

"I missed you too, dork. Come on, Luke's waiting."

She led them through the corridors to Luke's department, waving and greeting the people she knew - Clary was very close to her step-father, and often visited him at the office. Luke had booked a small meeting room for a bit of privacy, and was waiting for them with all the paperwork ready for them to sign off on.

He got up to greet them and give Elaine Lewis a hug, then saw Simon and did a double take. He glanced at Rebecca, then his eyes travelled to where Catarina was standing unobtrusively in the corner, glamoured to be invisible, and Simon suddenly realised that Luke had the Sight.

"Simon, what have you been getting yourself into?" Luke growled. "Since when are you a shadowhunter?"

"What- you know- how?" Simon sputtered. Catarina narrowed her eyes and put one hand on the staff strapped behind her. 

"Easy, shadowhunter," Luke raised his palms in a defensive gesture. "We're just talking."

Clary was staring at Luke in shock. "You knew, all this time, about this... this whole other world?"

Luke was looking between Clary and Simon. Finally, he sighed. "Ok, we've all got questions. How about I go first - I'm a werewolf."

The Lewis family and Clary gasped in shock. "When? How?" Clary demanded, tears forming in her eyes. "Does Mum know?"

"Yes, of course Jocelyn knows," Luke said calmly. "I was still a rookie cop then, mostly rounding up drunks and troublemakers. One guy bit me when I tried to arrest him, and I didn't think much of it then because you get all sorts - and when the next full moon rolled around, I wolfed out. Luckily the New York Pack has a few officers on the NYPD, and someone sorted me out. I've gotten used to it, over the years."

"Oh god. Clary, remember when we were kids and we used to joke, because you know, Luke's always on late night duty on full moon nights..." Simon looked nervously at Clary.

Luke laughed a little at that. "Yeah, should have expected you two nerds to think of that. Only the moon at its fullest can force a change out of me now. We've got a floor of hidden cells here for the wolves on the force."

"Ok, there are werewolves - plural - on the NYPD. Nice," Simon huffed, adjusting his glasses.

"Now, your turn," Luke said firmly. "What's going on here? Elaine?" 

"Turns out - that horrible man who left me when I was still pregnant with Simon, is some sort of... half-angel," Elaine Lewis sniffed with a teary laugh.

Luke's gaze softened and he guided Elaine to one of the chairs. "That's rough. So you didn't know?"

Elaine shook her head and accepted the box of tissues Luke offered her. "Not until he turned up about two weeks ago with some strange men, and he kidnapped Rebecca from her dorm in college too. Simon was out with Clary, thankfully. At first I thought he was with the mafia, then I thought I was going mad..."

"It can be a lot to take in," Luke agreed. "Now that you know that Jocelyn and I know, you know you can come to us any time, right?"

"Thank you, Luke, you're a good man," Elaine smiled and hugged him.

"And now Rebecca and Simon are shadowhunters?" Luke asked, eyeing them. "And you've got yourself a shadowhunter detail too? This seems to be more than just your ordinary finding out you're Nephilim sort of deal."

"Um, this is Catarina Loss, she's a friend," Simon said, indicating the shadowhunter, who offered Luke a smile and a firm handshake.

"Yes, we have reason to believe that their father will try to abduct them again," Catarina explained. "Simon, Rebecca, and Mrs Lewis are seeking sanctuary under the Clave for the time being, until we are sure there is no more threat against them."

"Fair enough. If you need help, let us know. I'll round up some of the guys," Luke offered.

"That's very kind of you, Mr Garroway, we'll keep that in mind," Catarina smiled.

"Now, let's get this paperwork sorted, and I'll try to smooth things over in the mundane world wherever possible," Luke suggested. "You'd best be on your way back to the Institute if this guy is still out there." He frowned. "Clary, I don't think you should be hanging out with Simon at the moment."

"What? No, I mean... we'll be safe, stick to places with lots of people..." Simon started weakly. 

"Mundanes don't mean anything to people like that," Luke scoffed. "Being in a crowd won't keep you safe, and you know it. Don't think I didn't notice that you've decked yourself out like you're going into battle."

"It's ok, Si, I'll hang out with some of the girls tonight instead," Clary said quickly.

"Ok. Call me when you get home," Simon said, communicating his apology to Clary silently.

"I'll be fine, I promise," Clary smiled and squeezed his hand.

 

Carefully unwrapping the bandages on Raphael's arm, Alec examined the wound and sighed. "You should really have let my sister fix this when she offered the other day."

The shadowhunter and his parabatai sitting by the side of his bed were silent, and Alec felt like he was being judged. He didn't particularly care - he knew they were Magnus' friends, and that they were probably just feeling protective of their friend. Alec concentrated on letting his magic flush out the spoiled flesh.

Thora Fell had called him in to the Institute to heal the Forsaken wound since it was still resisting the iraztes, and business was business. His only concern was whether he might accidentally bump into Magnus now that he was in the Institute - to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure whether he was dreading it or looking forward to it.

"Probably because Raph here has a little crush on your sister," Ragnor said suddenly, breaking the silence. 

"What?! I do not!" Raphael sputtered. 

"He gets all awkward around the people he's crushing on," Ragnor told Alec. Alec shrugged non-committally, still focused on healing the wound. Why were they telling him this? 

"I do not have a crush on her!"

"Oh, you don't have to be coy about it. Are you worried that Simon will take it badly? Because I'm pretty sure the beautiful Isabelle is into him as well, you could make a ménage à trois of it," Ragnor grinned.

"You're an asshole," Raphael scowled. "Why the hell are we parabatai?" 

Alec tried not to roll his eyes. This must be how Isabelle felt every time he bickered with Jace. 

"I think we should find Magnus after this for some sparring, and let you work off some steam," Ragnor mused. "He's in the training room on the third floor, second door from the right if you go down the first staircase you come to." 

Alec froze. 

"I do know where the training rooms are, you know," Raphael said evenly, ostensibly addressing Ragnor but his gaze flickering to Alec. "I hurt my arm, not my head."

"Oh, that's true," Ragnor said with fake innocence. "Guess I was thinking of somebody else then."

Alec cleared his throat. "I'm done. Please let Thora Fell know, I will send her the bill."

"So... can Raphael go work out now, or should he wait?" Ragnor asked casually.

"I... Perhaps it would be best if he rested his arm for few hours," Alec said quietly.

Ragnor nodded, pleased. "We'd better make good use of the downtime, right Raph?" 

Raphael pinned Alec with a hard look. "Yes, we'd better."

Alec followed Ragnor's instructions down to the training rooms, trying to look like he was supposed to be there - the shadowhunters probably wouldn't take very kindly to a warlock wandering their hallways unchaperoned. He had nearly talked himself out of it two times in the five minutes it had taken him to find the place, but here he was outside the door of the training room Magnus was supposed to be in.

Magnus had left the door ajar; Alec pushed the door open a bit more.

"Ragnor, is that you? Is Raphael ok?" Magnus asked, not turning around.

Alec watched like a man hypnotised, as Magnus went through the slow, deliberate movements of something that resembled _tai chi_. Magnus had discarded his shirt in the humidity of the room, and in every fluid graceful movement, Alec could see his back, shoulder and arm muscles rippling - deltoid, trapezius, biceps, triceps - Alec catalogued each one and filed them away in his mind.

"Ragnor?" Magnus turned around and his mouth fell open when he saw Alec at the doorway.

Alec stared at Magnus. All the reasons for having nothing to do with the beautiful shadowhunter before him seemed so far away in the light of mesmerising gold-green eyes, and the hesitant but genuine smile that Magnus couldn't seem to help.  

Alec should at least apologise for ejecting Magnus from his home so abruptly when he had been injured, he decided. As Magnus watched Alec walk into the room, the surprise grew on his face, and Alec would be lying if he said his heart didn't break a little.

"Hey," Alec said awkwardly, as Magnus quickly shrugged his tank top back on.

"Hello, Alexander," Magnus said, his voice warm. 

"How's the shoulder?" Alec asked, fighting to keep things professional. 

"Oh, don't worry, it healed up long ago, thanks to you," Magnus replied. "I hope you received your payment on time?"

"You didn't need to pay for it, it was a favour," Alec frowned. "Look - I wanted to apologise. I overreacted-"

"No, Alexander, please," Magnus interrupted him quickly. "Isabelle explained everything to me, I don't blame you the slightest. You don't have to apologise for anything."

"Ok, that's... I beg to differ, but ok," Alec ducked his head. "Anyway, I donated the payment to an animal shelter."

Magnus smiled a little at that. "That's sweet. I've always wanted a cat, but we can't have pets in the Institute."

"I have a cat," Alec blurted out. "His name is the Great Catsby."

Magnus burst out into loud, delighted laughter at that. "Why didn't I get to meet him the other day when I was at your place?"

"He's shy. He was hiding in my bedroom the whole time," Alec said, allowing himself a small grin at the shadowhunter's obvious amusement at his cat's name.

"Takes after his daddy, I guess," Magnus teased. 

Alec blushed. He fidgeted with his sleeves, then finally said reluctantly, "I gotta-" 

"Go?" Magnus asked with a small knowing smile. "Of course. You're a busy man."

"Goodbye, Magnus." It felt too final, but there was nothing else to say. 

"Goodbye, Alexander."


	12. Chapter 12

  

 

As they left the NYPD building, Simon lingered back to chat with Clary. The sun was just setting, painting the streets in bright gold. 

"So your brother Jonathan is off doing that exchange in France - do you need me to meet your date to do the older brother 'hurt her and I'll kill you' speech in his stead?" Simon asked.

"And what makes you think he's going to be scared of you, nerd?" she teased.

"Hey, I have badass tattoos now, and a lot of sharp pointy things - that I don't really know how to use, but..."

"This actually isn't my first time going out with him," Clary confessed with a blush. "He walked me home from the Institute the night of the warlock's party because it was late and he saw that I was alone, and we sort of hit it off, so he invited me to a beat poetry thing a few nights ago."

"Ok, sounds like a cool dude," Simon said. "But I still maintain BFF shovel-talk rights." 

"Alright, alright," Clary laughed. "I swear you'll be the first to meet him once it's safe for you to go out, ok?" 

"Where are you guys going?" 

"Tompkins Square Park," Clary said with a smile. "I told him I like old films, and apparently there's some sort of film festival there tonight."

"What's his name, anyway?"

"Jace."

"No last name? Or has that not come up yet? 

"Just Jace, I think? To be honest, I didn't ask," Clary said with a frown. 

"Maybe he wants to be a rock star, and is trying out the one-name thing - you know, like Beyoncé," Simon joked. "Whatever it is, call me. If you need me."

"I always need you, Simon," Clary smiled, and hugged him before they parted ways at the subway.

 

The rest of the evening passed normally enough for Simon. They went back to the Institute for dinner. (Simon had to admit, the shadowhunters had one thing going for them, and that was the food - always food enough to feed an army, which he supposed was appropriate, and generally pretty good, healthy fare, even if he did wish for some junk food now and then.) Then he had lessons with Sigurd Fell, an absent-minded-professor type who was in charge of teaching theory and history to all the young shadowhunters in the Institute. Simon sat awkwardly with Rebecca and half a dozen preteens and tried not to geek out about the Shadowhunter Codex in front of him, because it was like reading one of his D&D campaign books but _real_.  

He was about to get ready for bed when his phone went off. He checked his messages, and his heart skipped a beat: it was from Clary, and it said "SOS 2AveStn".

Simon was in his gear and strapping on his weapons belt, mentally calculating how long it would take for him to get to Clary if he ran as fast as he could, when he realised that he had put his bow and quiver back in the weapons room. He deliberated for half a second before he was out of the door and headed for the weapons room - despite his sword-fighting lesson from Magnus yesterday, he still wasn't really confident with his seraph blades. 

Unfortunately, despite the late hour, the weapons room was not empty. Simon burst into the room and found Raphael cleaning his throwing knives.

"Raphael, _amigo_!" Simon squeaked in surprise. "How's the arm?"

"Fine, after the warlock healed it," Raphael answered, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you in gear? Where are you going?"

"Um..." Simon fidgeted, his eyes scanning the room for his bow - there it was, on the rack where he had left it.

"Spit it out, Simon," Raphael said impatiently.

He was wasting time. Clary had sent him an SOS text.

"I think Clary is in trouble," Simon finally said.

"And you were planning to go alone, with Barnabas Hale still out there?" Raphael scowled, quickly picking up his knives and slotting them into his belt. "I'll wake Ragnor, we are coming with you."

"No, I don't want to trouble you guys! I mean, I don't even know what kind of trouble it is," Simon protested. "She's out on a date, you see. It might not be supernatural trouble, just creepy-date trouble." 

"Fine, then _I'm_ coming with you at least," Raphael said. "Take your bow and let's go rescue your little mundane friend."

 

By the time they got off the cab at Second Avenue Station as directed by Clary's message, a light rain had started to fall, and Simon's stomach was in knots. Simon remembered Clary mentioning Tompkins Square Park, but the film festival would have been over at least two hours ago. With no other clues available, they decided to head down Houston and sweep the area between the station and the park.

Raphael suggested that they kept to the smaller alleys, where Clary was more likely to be if she was in trouble, and they hit pay dirt when they cut over to First Street, which was mostly deserted, a strip of darkness between the bright lights of First Avenue and Avenue A. 

Simon would recognise that red hair anywhere, even in the semi-darkness. The alley was brick-walled, littered with with shattered beer glasses and cigarette butts. Clary had her back against the brick wall, and was being thoroughly kissed by a blond boy who had his arms around her. 

"So much for being in trouble," Raphael rolled his eyes.

The couple jumped apart at his voice, and Simon startled when he recognised the blond boy.

"Get away from her right now," Simon snarled, already stringing an arrow into his bow.

"Woah, easy there, mate," the boy said, holding his hands up defensively. "Look, if you want money, I'll just give you my wallet- oh. Shadowhunters," he suddenly said, taking in their runes and weapons. "Ok, I don't plan to hurt the mundane, ok? This is not what it looks like."

"Simon, it's ok, I- wait, what?" Clary stared at the blond boy, a look of horror dawning on her face. "Jace?"

"Clary, I can explain," apparently-Jace insisted. "Wait, do you actually know these guys?"

"I _said_ , step away from Clary," Simon repeated, his bow still trained on Jace.  

Jace huffed, but did as he was told, his hands still held up defensively. Simon wasn't fooled - he'd read in the Codex that vampires had all sorts of tricks up their sleeves: super speed, and the _encanto_ \- the power to mesmerise and control people.

"Simon, what's going on?" Clary asked, her voice strained and lips still kiss-swollen. 

"You tell us," Raphael said, his voice hard. "Why did you send Simon that SOS?"

"Oh, that," Clary said with a nervous laugh. "I thought I saw something following us from the park a few blocks back, but Jace said it was nothing. I was going to send you another message to let you know I was ok, but I got... distracted."

"It _was_ nothing," Jace scoffed. "My senses are far better than any human's, and I didn't notice anything."

"Maybe because you were thinking with your downstairs brain instead of your upstairs brain?" Raphael smirked. 

"Hey," Jace protested. 

"Clary, are you hurt?" Simon asked tightly.

"Um, no, I'm good, actually," Clary said, her gaze flickering between Simon and Jace. "So... who or what is Jace, exactly?" 

"Vampire," Simon, Raphael and Jace replied in unison. Clary immediately shrank back from Jace. 

"Oh, come on, Clary," Jace pleaded. "I swear I was going to tell you." 

"Before or after you'd sucked her dry or turned her into a leech like you?" Raphael snarled.

"I said I wasn't going to hurt her," Jace snarled back, his fangs sliding out. 

"Why should we believe you, bloodsucker?" Raphael taunted, drawing a seraph blade.

"I won't be spoken to like this, Shadowhunter," Jace said fiercely. "Who are you to judge me?"

"Well, you're a vampire - you drink blood. Are you trying to tell us that you're not like the rest of them, that you're a 'vegetarian'?" Simon asked sarcastically. 

"Plants don't have blood," Jace said, frowning. 

"Never mind," Simon sighed.

"Anyway, biting humans isn't against the Law, it doesn't hurt them," Jace said defensively. "Vampire saliva has healing properties, it makes the bitten stronger and healthier, and makes them live longer..." 

"Oh my god," Clary gasped, and started edging towards Simon and Raphael.

"No... please, Clary, believe me, it's different, ok? It's different with you," Jace said softly, so softly that Simon could barely hear him. "I usually don't date mundanes because it gets so complicated, but I saw you at Alec and Izzy's party and you were so beautiful I thought you were a faerie..." 

Raphael snorted in derision.

"Look, budget Edward Cullen," Simon said angrily. "Just leave Clary alone, promise you'll never bother her again, and we'll let you go, ok?"

Jace glared at them, then a cocky smirk tilted his lips. "You two think you can take me on?"

Jace moved like a blur, Clary screamed, but Raphael was in front of Simon with his blade blazing before Simon could even react. Raphael brought his short sword down, movements sharp and swift, but Jace was even swifter - he dodged the blow and tried to twist the blade from Raphael's hand, but the shadowhunter leapt out of his reach. They began circling each other, snarling at each other like caged dogs, and Simon quickly moved to Clary's side, intent on protecting her.

"Are you really ok?" Simon whispered.

"Yes. He had every chance to hurt me, all the times I was out with him, but..." Clary shook her head, eyes fixed on the boys fighting a distance away from them.

"It was probably a trick," Simon suggested. Clary shook her head again and didn't answer.

The fight got faster, dirtier - Raphael managed to get in a few minor hits, but so did Jace, and Simon itched to jump in and maybe provide a distraction so Raphael could get the upper hand. If only Ragnor was here...

In his distraction, Simon didn't even notice Clary was no longer by his side until she screamed.

"Clary!" he made a grab for her outstretched hands but missed by an inch. She was being dragged by her ankles to something hiding in the deep shadow of the alley - something that had far too many arms to be human. 

At his shout, Raphael and Jace raced towards him, but while they had been distracted with fighting each other, other things had crept into the alleyway. Another something caught hold of both of Jace's ankles, and Raphael suddenly found a tentacle-like appendage coiled around his waist. 

The alley was dark enough that Simon didn't dare use his bow in case he accidentally hit Clary. He whipped out his seraph blade and the light from it spilled out to illuminate something he really wished he hadn't had to see - a trio of white, scaled and vaguely humanoid things with tentacles in place of hands, their bulging black, toad-like, pupil-less eyes reflecting the light of the seraph blade oddly. One of them had a tentacle coiled around Clary's ankle, and Simon could see red suckers on the underside of the tentacles, probably to help them grip their victims.

He dashed forward, striking at the tentacle holding Clary. Much to his surprise, he actually managed to make contact - there was a nasty wet noise when the blade seared through the demon's arm, and the tentacled appendage let go of Clary when it was separated from its owner. It lay twitching at Clary's feet, gray-white and slimy-looking, and Simon saw that inside each blood-red sucker was a cluster of tiny, needle-sharp teeth.

The demon made a distressed hooting noise. Its friends came forward, advancing on Clary as she struggled to get to her feet.

"Hurry!" Simon grabbed Clary's arm, but she swooned.

"I don't feel so good," she whispered, her face pale. Simon had a feeling those teeth in the suckers contained some sort of venom. 

There was no way Simon was going to be able to fight off three demons on his own, much less with Clary as a deadweight in his arms. He quickly set her down gently, leaning her against the wall, and stood in front of her with his seraph blade blazing. The best he could hope for was to fend them off for long enough until Raphael could come to their rescue.

Unfortunately, Simon's luck didn't hold out. When the second demon lunged straight at him, the force of the blow knocked him backwards against the wall. Simon went down with a cry, his shoulder hitting the brick painfully, making him lose grip of his blade. Slick tentacles rasped against his skin. One circled his arm, squeezing painfully; the other whipped forward, wrapping around his throat. Simon's fingers scrabbled uselessly at the limb crushing his windpipe. Already his lungs were aching. He kicked and twisted - and suddenly the pressure was gone; the thing was off him. Simon sucked in a whistling breath and slumped against the wall, still on his knees.

"Where's Clary?" he heard Jace ask, his voice frantic.

Simon looked around, his eyes watering, but Jace was right - Clary was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

 

"They can't have gone far, let's follow them," Simon croaked, struggling to stand. Jace had already run off into the darkness with unnatural speed.

"They're not very smart, but they are fast," Raphael shook his head, already drawing iraztes on Simon. "Those were Raum demons - retrievers," Raphael said grimly.

"Shit," Simon said in understanding. "Hale. He must have found out that Clary is my best friend."

To Simon's great disappointment, Jace soon came back in view, empty handed.

"Look, do you have anything with you that belongs to Clary?" Raphael asked Simon. "I'll give Ragnor a call - we can do our parabatai tracking, try to find her." Simon shook his head - he had barely anything of his own, much less anything of Clary's.

"Her jacket is with my bike," Jace offered. Simon gestured that he should lead the way, while Raphael tried to get Ragnor on the phone.

"I know a guy, I'm going to call him in to help-" Jace started, phone already at his ear. 

"I think you've helped enough," Simon snarled, rounding on Jace. "This is all your fault!"

" _My_ fault?"  

"She said there was something following you, and you ignored her!"

"I'm not the one these guys are after. I'm not the one who got my 'best friend' kidnapped because of some stupid shadowhunter politics!" Jace shot back furiously. 

Simon deflated immediately. Jace _was_ right - it was completely his fault.

"Hey," Raphael put both hands on Simon's shoulders. "Don't think about that now. Clary needs you to help her. Focus on that."

"Ok," Simon nodded and swallowed.

Meanwhile, Jace had finally gotten hold of his contact on the phone. "Yes, I know what time it is, it's an emergency, ok? No, it's not one of my vamp pals, it's the girl I was - no! It's not her fault ok, it's her stupid shadowhunter friend..." 

Jace paused and frowned, then turned to Simon. "What's your name again?" 

"Simon," he replied, bewildered. "Simon Lewis." 

Jace repeated the name, and then sagged with relief after a while, thanking the other person on the line. 

"Who was that and why did he want to know my name?" Simon asked in puzzlement. 

"High Warlock of Brooklyn," Jace answered tersely. "He said he knows you." 

"Oh." Simon supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Jace knew Alec - he had been at his party, after all. That's how Jace had even had the chance to meet Clary in the first place - and of course, that was his fault all over again, for bringing her to the party. Gods, he was so _stupid_.

"That shadowhunter Alec has been pining over - it's not you, is it?" Jace looked at Raphael in distaste. 

"Most certainly not," Raphael grimaced.

"Yeah, I thought so," Jace looked relieved. "Somebody who can make Alec mope around the house like a love-sick puppy has to be someone special. Definitely not someone like you."

Raphael was no doubt about to make some snide remark when a Portal opened in front of them, and Alec Lightwood strolled out with his hair in a mess and wearing the rattiest sweater Simon had ever seen. He nodded at Simon and Raphael, and scowled at Jace. 

"Alec!" Jace clapped the grumpy warlock on the shoulder. "This way."

They finally got to Jace's motorcycle and retrieved Clary's jacket, but the frown on Alec's face grew deeper as he worked his magic on it. 

"I don't see her," he finally said.  

Raphael huffed impatiently. "We'll go back to the Institute, Ragnor is waiting."

"I don't think you will get very different results," Alec said carefully. "Warlock tracking is the strongest there is. Her location is being obscured - it's likely that she's being held somewhere over water." 

Alec took in the stubborn set of Raphael's jaw and shrugged. He reached out in front of him, as if he was reaching for a door, and _pulled_ \- the air split into the swirling, glowing shape of a Portal. Raphael gave Alec a curt nod of thanks, and they all stepped through it. 

Raphael hadn't just woken up Ragnor. Rebecca, Magnus, Catarina, and - much to Simon's surprise - Mrs Fell and Isabelle Lightwood, were all waiting for them on the steps of the Institute as well. Mrs Fell ushered them all into the Sanctuary, since Jace couldn't enter the hallowed ground of the Institute, being one of the undead. 

True to Alec's words, Raphael and Ragnor's parabatai tracking turned up no results as well.

"If they took her as a hostage, they'll probably get in touch soon," Alec pointed out. "No use all of us sitting around all night."

"Come on, Jace, you can crash at our place," Isabelle cajoled. She slung an arm around him, and he hugged her back gratefully.

"You'll let me know if anything turns up, anything at all?" Jace asked Simon.

Simon wanted to be petty and say no, but Jace looked as desperately miserable as Simon felt. So far, Jace wasn't behaving like the cool, suave and charming undead that Simon had come to expect from vampire stories. Simon nodded wordlessly, and the vampire gave him a strained smile before going through the Portal with his warlock friends.

"What now?" Simon asked, his whole body restless with the need to do something, anything, that would help get his best friend back. 

"Sleep?" Magnus yawned.

"I can't possibly sleep now!" Simon tried not to yell. 

"I could give you something to quiet your mind?" Thora suggested gently.

Simon shook his head violently. "No, what if they call and I'm-"

"You're not going to be any use to her if you don't get some sleep," Raphael said. "We'll wake you, we promise."

The potion Thora gave him smelled pleasantly of juniper and leaves, and was pale-green. She told him Elaine Lewis was asleep, and they hadn't wanted to wake her in the middle of the night with bad news because she still seemed rather shaken from their trip to the NYPD, and brought Simon a cup of cocoa as well. Simon hadn't had cocoa brought to him in bed in years, and it made him feel guilty about his initial plan to secretly flush the potion down the drain. When Thora finally left his room, Simon frowned at the tiny vial, and decided to take just a tiny sip. He was out like a light in seconds.

 

Simon woke up with a start. What time was it? He reached groggily for his phone, faintly aware that his glasses were still sitting on his face, slightly skewed, and that somehow he'd decided to sleep in shadowhunter gear. There were no new calls or messages; the sky was just turning light outside.

The events of the night before came rushing back to him. Simon scrambled out of bed and rushed down to the command centre. The younger shadowhunters and Rebecca were already awake and having breakfast. Simon tried to choke down some coffee and toast at Catarina's gentle urging, but immediately felt sick.  

Suddenly, there was an alarm from one of the screens - someone or something was approaching the gates of the Institute. Catarina tapped on the screen, and a camera showed a UPS guy outside the gates of the Institute, looking thoroughly puzzled and double-checking the address on his delivery slip, since the Institute basically looked like an abandoned church to mundanes. 

"I'm guessing that isn't somebody's online shopping," Magnus murmured. 

They all went out together - the UPS guy looked spooked to see so many people coming out of an abandoned church. 

"One of you Simon Lewis?" 

Simon nodded wordlessly and signed the delivery slip while Raphael helped receive the parcel. It wasn't very big, fitting comfortably in his arms, but it seemed rather heavy. There were stickers all over proclaiming that the contents were fragile, and there was a card on top.  

"You guys having some sort of Halloween do in there?" the delivery guy asked, scratching his head. Raphael simply glared at him until he backed away to his van and drove off. 

Simon flipped the card over. It was a generic, store-bought one, with the words "With compliments" printed in flowery script. It was signed off "Asmodeus Bane".

Magnus clenched his jaw when Simon showed them the card. "I'll open it."

"It's addressed to me, though," Simon said faintly.

"It might be booby-trapped," Magnus explained, and pushed him aside firmly but gently.

"Perhaps we should have High Warlock Lightwood take a look at it first," Catarina suggested as Magnus ran a Sensor over the parcel - the Sensor stayed silent. 

"I've sent him a message, he'll be here soon," Magnus replied, already examining the box.  

Simon suddenly had a dreadful flashback to the ending scene in a crime thriller movie called _Se7en_ , which he had watched with Clary.

_What's in the box?_

Someone had acquired a penknife for Magnus, and he was carefully cutting through the tape. Rebecca grabbed Simon's hand, and held tight.

In the movie, the detective had received a parcel from the killer, containing his wife's severed head.   

_What's in the box?_

"Blood," Magnus noted, pointing out a rusty coloured stain on the outside of a flap.  

Simon watched Magnus flip open the flaps of the box, and saw something round, and a flash of bright red hair. 

"Oh god," Simon's breath came out in a rush. He was dimly aware that he was no longer standing upright. 

"It's not her, Si, it's not her," Rebecca said comfortingly, wrapping her arms around him.

"What?" Simon gasped. 

Magnus had a lock of red hair in his hands, and an envelope. He was staring at the remaining contents of the box in revulsion. 

"It's... it's Barnabas Hale's head," Rebecca said softly. Simon hugged her back. He wasn't quite sure what to feel about the new information.

There was a ripping noise, and Alec Lightwood walked out of a Portal, looking like he might murder someone for a cup of coffee. 

"I thought I said not to open the box until I got here," he frowned. 

"I'm sorry, Alexander - I've been a bad, _bad_ boy," Magnus winked, and smirked when Alec's ears turned tomato red.

"Seriously, Magnus? This is hardly the time to be flirting," Catarina pinched the bridge of her nose.

"But Alexander looks so good in red," Magnus grinned. He waved the envelope at Simon. "This is probably for you. Should I open it, or do you want to read it yourself?"

"I think I'll read it myself," Simon said, trying to keep his voice steady. He got up to take the letter, pointedly avoiding the box.

Opening the envelope with shaky hands, Simon frowned. "It's addressed to me, Rebecca and Magnus."

"Oh, does dear old dad actually have something to say to me?" Magnus said, far too casually. "How fascinating. Do continue."

"It's instructions," Simon finally said.

"Let me guess - be somewhere at a certain time, bring no backup, or the next head he sends will be Clary's?" Magnus laughed sardonically. "How typical. I must say, I'm disappointed - I expected more creativity from the Clave's most wanted." 

"One for the price of three. Doesn't seem like a very good deal," Alec observed.

"But we have to save her," Simon said immediately. "I'll go by myself, maybe I can convince him..." 

"I'm going with you," Rebecca said firmly. "Clary is my friend too, and I can't possibly let my little brother down." 

Magnus turned to Alec and gestured at the Lewis siblings. "You see, he was counting on this happening." He sighed. "Fine. I'm in too."

Everyone started talking at once at this pronouncement, until Thora Fell stepped out of the main doors of the Institute. She startled when she saw the gruesome box sitting on the steps of the Institute, and looked around at all of them with a frown on her face. "Let's discuss this inside. The steps of the Institute are no place for this conversation."

"I would like to be part of the discussion as well, if that's ok," Alec spoke up, his expression grim.

If this surprised Thora, she didn't show it. "Of course. This way please, High Warlock Lightwood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, short chapter. Next one should be up soon though!


	14. Chapter 14

 

They had all been served cups of coffee in the meeting room, presumably for Alec's benefit. Magnus stirred in liberal amounts of cream and sugar in his, and pretended that this process was taking up a lot of his concentration, because he couldn't look his friends in the face if he was going to do this.

"He said he killed Barnabas Hale as a 'gesture of goodwill', because he had been disrespectful to our mother - you know, for kidnapping her and imprisoning her in Renwick," Simon said faintly. "Who the hell thinks like that?"

"A raging psychopath, that's who," Ragnor muttered. Magnus privately agreed. 

"What else was in the letter?" Thora Fell asked briskly. 

"He said he just wants to talk," Simon said. "We're supposed to wait for him at one of the piers along Hudson River just before sundown." 

"Alright, let's go talk to him then," Magnus said airily. "Sounds simple enough."

"Magnus, please," Catarina pleaded. "This is a suicide mission."

"He's not going to hurt me, I'm his only son," Magnus scoffed. "Can't promise the same for the other two, but he did make them a present of their father's head."  

"Not that I'm not grateful that you're willing to walk into this obvious trap with us, but I don't think this guy has all his marbles intact, so I doubt being his son is going to count for much," Simon said. 

"Don't be so optimistic, it might get our hopes up," Magnus said wryly. 

"I know you want revenge for your mother, Magnus, but you can't just rush headfirst into this without a plan," Thora said gently.

"I _have_ got a plan - I'll just stab him in the heart once I get within striking range," Magnus argued. "He's not going to expect his son to turn against him."

"I think you're underestimating his cunning. Don't forget that not only did he fool the Clave into believing him dead; he also managed to steal the cup from right under their noses," Thora said patiently. 

"But he is just one man-"

"And possibly a small army of Forsaken and demons," Ragnor interjected. Magnus ignored him.

"Look, he must be really desperate if he needs two completely untrained shadowhunters to boost his army," Magnus pointed out. 

"I think there's more to that than meets the eye," Alec interrupted. "Why them, and you, why now?" 

"You think he needs them for something else, something he couldn't do until now..." Ragnor said thoughtfully. "What, like a ritual?"

Alec shrugged. "I could look into it."

"You are welcome to all the resources of the Institute, High Warlock Lightwood," Thora offered. "In the meantime, what are we to do with this exchange Asmodeus has suggested? We have about nine hours to sundown."

"Let's just keep it simple - we'll meet him, as instructed, have a nice little chat, and we'll be back with Clary in no time. We'll be fine," Magnus insisted.

"We haven't been able to track Clary - If he decides to spirit you away, it's likely that the three of you will be untraceable as well," Thora reminded him. 

"It won't come to that. It's not that easy to get the drop on me - best shadowhunter of our generation, remember?" He indicated himself with a flourish.

"Magnus, you're not taking this seriously," Catarina scowled.

"I am, darling, I promise I am. Cross my heart and hope to die - or, in this case, hope not to die," Magnus flashed her a brilliant, cocky smile, and hoped it was enough.

Thora and Catarina exchanged an exasperated look, and Magnus thought he had gotten away with it until he noticed Alexander watching him. 

"Magnus, do you think you could help me get started on my research?" Alec asked after the meeting was adjourned.

"Sure," Magnus answered nonchalantly.

"Magnus agreeing to help with research? The end of the world is nigh," Ragnor said in mock horror.

"Oh shush, you," Magnus frowned at Ragnor. "Come on, Alexander."

 

 

"Are you sure you're ok?" Alec asked Magnus once they were out of earshot from the others. 

Magnus forced himself to meet Alec's earnest hazel eyes. "Of course I'm ok. Why wouldn't I be?" 

They walked in silence for a bit, Magnus keeping up a determined pace, then Alec said, "I tried to find out who my demon parent was, a few years after Max died."

Magnus startled and stopped walking. "That couldn't have been easy," he finally said. "Was Isabelle there?"

"I didn't tell her. I still haven't told her."

"Why not?"

"Izzy doesn't like to be reminded of the demonic part of our heritage," Alec admitted. "She likes to use her magic for fun things, enjoyable things. She doesn't want to know."

"I don't blame her," Magnus murmured. "But all these years, you've held the burden of that knowledge alone."

Alec was pressing a spot in the middle of his left palm, an unconscious gesture that Magnus noticed he tended to do when he was nervous. "I was terrified, when I summoned him. I had to know, but I didn't want to, at the same time. Does that make sense?" 

"I think I know exactly how you feel," Magnus confessed.

"He was an Eidolon demon, a Greater Demon. He came to me wearing my step-father's face," Alec's lips curled in disgust at the memory.

"I take it he didn't do that for the happy memories it would bring you."

"My step-father was distant, at best. He was cheating on our mother, he didn't care about us," Alec shrugged. 

"Did it help?" Magnus asked softly. "Did meeting your father help?" 

Alec frowned. "He said... a lot of things. I'm still not sure which were true and which were lies, but none of them were pleasant. But I guess it helped, in a way, because I knew then that I was nothing like him."

"Oh, Alexander," Magnus frowned. "Of course you are nothing like him. I didn't even have to meet him to know that."

"Do you?" Alec asked pointedly. "Do _you_ know that you're nothing like your father?"

"I guess that's what I'm trying to find out," Magnus said with sardonic twist to his mouth.

Alec frowned and shook his head. "I still think you're taking a huge risk, but I get that it's something you feel you have to do." He paused and did a strange gesture, like he was a mundane magician pulling something out of thin air, and offered Magnus a small black box, with no visible hinges or opening.

"Portable Portal," Alec explained a little shyly. "I was working on it - I haven't had a chance to test it out properly, but it should work almost anywhere. Just throw it on the ground in front of you." 

"Alexander," Magnus breathed, admiring the box in his hand. "You never cease to amaze me." 

"Just... just try to come back," Alec said seriously.

"I'll try," Magnus smiled, and this time he felt like he actually meant it. "After all, I still haven't taken you out on that first date like I promised."

 

 

Magnus, Rebecca and Simon stood on the pier, watching the sun set over the horizon. Lights were starting to come on, winking and glittering along the spans of the Williamsburg and Manhattan Bridges. It was cold, unseasonably so - an icy wind arced off the river, so intense that he could feel it through the denim of his jeans - although that could also be due to the number of artfully ripped holes in them. Magnus shivered, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. They were all dressed in gear, with a few blades on them but nothing extravagant. Simon hadn't even brought his bow. There had been a lot of arguments over this at the Institute, but in the end Magnus had won out - if they were just here for a chat, it wouldn't make a good impression if they were armed to the teeth; if they were walking into a trap, whatever weapons they had would probably just get confiscated anyway, and there was no point wasting a perfectly good bow.

Magnus felt the comforting weight of the small black box Alexander had given him in his jeans pocket, and hoped it looked innocuous enough that Asmodeus (or more likely, his henchmen) would leave it well alone.

"Nice shirt," Rebecca commented, possibly to break the tension of the silence and the looming undetermined deadline of their meeting with Asmodeus.

Magnus had barely spoken a handful of sentences to her outside of training. He shrugged. "Forgot to do the wash, what with all the things that have been going on." It was a small lie - it _was_ his only black shirt, but he had worn it mainly to see the expression on Alexander's face when the warlock had noticed it had "Blink if you want me" spelled out in sequins, and had promptly blinked, realised what he had done, and then started blushing furiously. 

"Did we get the date wrong, or something?" Simon asked nervously.

"He's trying to make us lose our nerves and do something stupid. Is it working?" Magnus drawled. 

"Something stupid like?"

"Not pay attention," Magnus barked, and suddenly turned to face the sky with both his seraph blades out and blazing.

Three enormous winged creatures were diving straight at them, a blur of shadowy wings and reeking, jagged teeth. Simon yelped and drew his blade, as did Rebecca, but they were not nearly fast enough. Simon felt the claws sinking into the back of his jacket, and the creature immediately started beating its powerful wings, lifting Simon a few feet off the ground.

"Simon!" Rebecca threw one of the blades she was holding in desperation - much to everyone's surprise, the blade flew true, and lodged itself in one of the wings of the demon that had caught Simon, causing it to drop him. 

Simon landed heavily and felt his ankle twist under him. "Shit," he cursed. 

"Here come more of them," Magnus shouted out a warning as he sheared the head off one of the flying demons. 

Close up, the flying demons looked like pterodactyls Simon had seen in dinosaur books as a kid, with wide, leathery wings that ended in blade-sharp ridges of bone, and a bony triangular head. Simon didn't understand how they were able to see anything, because they had no eyes - only indentations on each side of their skulls. 

"I knew I should have brought my bow!" Simon grumbled as he tried to slash at the creatures while not overbalancing on his bad ankle and falling flat on his face.

"Is this really the time to gloat that I was wrong and you were right?" Magnus sniped back.

Fighting flying demons turned out to be a right pain in the ass - and in the neck. There were half a dozen of these weird pterodactyl-things, and they seemed to immediately realise Simon and Rebecca were the weaker fighters, zooming in on them and trying to grab at their limbs with their claws and jaws, while circling tantilisingly out of Magnus' reach. Every time one of them managed to jab a demon, a shower of acidic, bitter ichor would rain down from the wounded demon, burning their skin, and forcing them to look down to avoid getting the toxic stuff in their eyes and mouths.  

Rebecca was one blade down, but had the advantage of being shorter - it was easier for her to duck out of their reach. It wasn't long before Simon stumbled and ended up with his jacket caught in the claws of one of the flying demons again. With a howling screech of triumph, it took off into the air, Simon dangling helplessly from its claws.

Rebecca panicked and tried to grab hold of Simon's legs, leaving her open to attack - within moments, she too was snapped up by one of the creatures.

"Oh for god's sake," Magnus muttered, watching the Lewis siblings become tiny pin pricks in the sky. "Alright, you stupid overgrown chickens - you win. Just mind the jacket, will you." He sheathed his blades and held up his arms, and allowed himself to be carried off into the sky.


	15. Chapter 15

 

Simon had never been a big fan of heights. Every time he went to the fair with Clary and she wanted to go on the Ferris wheel, she had to bribe him with promises of first dibs on her new comics, and even then he spent the entire ride with his hands over his eyes. But now, flying above the Hudson River with only inky black water below and the foul breath of the flying demon above him, keeping his eyes closed turned out to be infinitely worse than just watching the city's lights swinging below him, and trying to pretend he was just taking a very realistic 4D roller coaster ride. 

Suddenly, the flying creature banked and dived, and instead of rising he was falling. Simon was sure everyone taking a stroll along the riverside had heard him scream. He could have sworn there had been nothing but black water below him, but suddenly there was a deck of a ship right below him. They dropped toward the deck, and the demon flew through a dark square on the deck, into the hold of the ship.

The flying creature slowed its pace. It was almost completely dark in here. Icy air lashed at Simon's face as the demon reached the bottom of the ship and ducked down what felt like a long corridor. It wasn't being particularly careful with him, and slammed his bad ankle against something as it turned a corner. Simon cried out and heard an odd hissing noise from the creature, which Simon later realised was laughter when it then took great pains to ram his bad leg into everything at every opportunity.

"Fucking jerk-ass," Simon grunted and tried to pry the creature's claws off his shoulder.

The creature released him - Simon yelped and tried to avoid landing on his bad leg again, and ended up busting his shoulder on the hard metal surface instead. The creature did its weird hissing laugh and took off through a square opening high up above him, which was the only source of light in the entire room.

"Great," Simon muttered, wincing as he cradled his shoulder. From his glimpse of the ship when he had been up in the air, it looked like a cargo ship, so he guessed he was in some sort of storage space. He fumbled for his stele and activated his night vision rune. Was it just him, or was there something twitching in the shadows of the room?

"Who's there?" Simon called out shakily. "Shit, I can't believe I just did that. That's like what the guy who dies in the first five minutes of every horror show does." 

He unsheathed his seraph blade, his vision shorting out in the combination of the sudden bright light and the fading effects of the night vision rune, and thought he saw a girl standing in the corner. Her hair was red, a splash of colour against the grey metal all around them.

"Clary?"

She was wearing the dress she'd been wearing the night before, her hands clasped over her heart in a posture that reminded Simon of corpses displayed in coffins. She didn't reply him. He took a step forward, and she moved her hands away from her chest and held them out to him. They were sticky with blood, and there was a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been.

"No! Clary!" Simon wanted to rush towards her, but something held him back - a voice at the back of his head, telling him something was wrong...

He looked at her eyes, and saw that instead of the familiar green of Clary's eyes, this thing in front him had eyes that were an opaque and glowing white, white and blinding as headlights on a dark road.

 

Rebecca had tried to keep an eye on the thing that had caught her brother, even though she was in no position to help him at the moment. It was force of habit - she was the big sister, it was her job to make sure a toddling Simon didn't fall down and hit his head when he had been learning to walk, her job to make sure Simon got to school safely with his little hand in hers, her job to make sure Simon always knew that she had his back and he could talk to her about unrequited crushes and anything that was going on in his life. Recently, she hadn't quite been able to be there for Simon the way she normally was. Even before all this shadowhunter business, she had been busy with college, caught up in her own life. And now, Simon honestly seemed more in tune with the new world they had been thrust into - he knew the unspoken rules better than she did, took to his training and classes with more enthusiasm than she did, and had even managed to make friends with the other shadowhunters their age - while she just felt hopelessly adrift and spent a lot of time in her room with her mother talking about inconsequential things, and missing her old friends and old life.

She watched the demon holding him dive down toward the river, her heart in her throat - then gasped when a great hulking ship seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The demon holding her flew deep into the bowels of the ship, through dark twisting corridors, before dumping her in a large metal room. She struck the floor with a jarring impact and rolled to her side, struggling to get on her feet. Her whole body felt like one big bruise.

"Simon?"

Was she alone in the room? Rebecca squinted, but it was too dark to tell - at least she was pretty sure that Simon wasn't in this room. Now, if she could only figure out how to get out of here and get to her brother. It was very cold in the room - even colder than when she'd been in the air being buffeted by the wind from the river. She drew her remaining seraph blade from her belt and gasped when the light from the weapon revealed the familiar figure standing in the corner of the room.

"Simon! Why didn't you answer when I called your name? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she scolded. Her little nerd brother looked so strange decked out in leather, weapons and the stark black tattoos of the runes - sometimes she barely recognised him anymore. Simon didn't answer.

"Simon? Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

He looked up at her, and lifted his bow - the arrow aimed directly at her heart.

"Simon?" Rebecca took a step back in shock. The light from the seraph blade reflected oddly in his glasses, making it look like his eyes were white instead of the usual brown.

Wait - she was pretty sure Simon hadn't brought his bow. Hadn't she heard him just complain about it when they were trying to fight off the demon birds?

"You're not Simon," she said firmly. She levelled her sword at him - _it_. "And whatever you are, you're not allowed to wear my brother's face."

 

Truth be told, Magnus was quite enjoying the view - New York City was beautiful from the air, a jewel of bustling traffic and twinkling lights. The Lewis siblings were long gone out of sight by now. Magnus frowned, wondering how they'd managed to disappear so quickly; then he saw it - an unmarked and unlit ship, its prow a narrow blade scything the water. It reminded him of a shark, lean and quick and deadly. Magnus had no doubt that it was heavily warded and glamoured. He let himself be carried into the ship, presumably to where his father was waiting for them, but was a little surprised when the demon dropped him into an empty room with floors and walls all made of smooth metal. He landed lightly on his feet. 

"Thanks for the lift!" he called after the flying demon as it disappeared through a skylight. There didn't seem to be any doors or windows in the room. The air smelled of rust and disuse, and it was cold, impossibly cold. The hair along the back of his neck was prickling, his every nerve screaming. Something was wrong. Magnus lifted his seraph blade, shining its light into all four corners of the room. In the last corner, his heart skipped a beat - he would remember that dressing gown anywhere; he saw it so often in both his dreams and nightmares.

"Mama?" he whispered before he could stop himself.

It couldn't be her. Was it a ghost? She turned, and Magnus' heart clenched. She looked exactly the same as he remembered, and he mourned that in the years that had passed, he had forgotten the exact shape of her eyes, and the sound of her voice when she sang him lullabies in her native tongue. She was wearing what she'd been wearing the night that he'd found her, the night that he had last seen her - the dull red dressing gown, the white lace nightgown. His gaze flickered to her throat, and he felt the tears threaten to spill when he spotted it - the rope-burns around her throat, barely visible over the high collar of her nightgown. Her eyes were closed, but there was a smile on her face. Magnus didn't think he had ever seen his mother happy.

Then she opened her eyes, and Magnus felt fury like he had never felt before, like he was being ripped apart; her eyes were white, white as the clamouring noise inside his own mind. This wasn't his mother, this was a demon wearing his mother's face, a cruel mockery of her memory, and in that moment he had never hated his father more. 

He leapt forward with a roar, both blades out. He fought like a man possessed, twin blades slicing at the demon with deadly precision, but the thing seemed to be made out of smoke, shifting and reforming into his mother's image. The thing smiled malevolently at him and threw him against a wall without even touching him. Magnus hit the wall with enough force to make him bite the insides of his mouth, but he used the momentum of the impact to drive himself forward at the demon - it turned into a huge vapourous thing, and laughed at Magnus when he simply hit the wall on the other side of the room, his seraph blades sinking uselessly into the metal.

Before Magnus could retrieve his swords, the demon threw him across the room again. Magnus struggled to sit up, the room spinning from where he had hit his head on the metal wall hard enough to dent it. His mother's face loomed into view, twisted in a horrible parody of a smile, and everything happened so fast Magnus wasn't even sure how it had happened - he had thrown his arm out in front of him, and felt a strange tingling sensation run down his arm, _and the demon had caught fire_. Magnus stared in shock as the thing wearing his mother's face writhed and screamed, and Magnus had the misfortune of having to watch his mother die twice.

 

In another room on the ship, Rebecca's only seraph blade was lying on the other side of the room, and she had been driven into a corner by the demon. Its first arrow hit her in the shoulder, and it felt real enough when it pierced through her skin and flesh, even though everything else about the demon seemed insubstantial, like smoke. 

"Simon has much better aim than that," Rebecca sneered through gritted teeth, and the demon grinned at her, already stringing in another arrow. Her gaze flickered to the seraph blade lying completely out of reach. If only she could find a way to get to it... 

The thought had barely formed in her mind when the seraph blade flew towards her, running the demon through from the back before landing neatly in her hand. The demon - not Simon, Rebecca reminded herself - looked at her in shock before it burst into a shower of ichor and dust.

 

In yet another room on the ship, Simon was frantically using his stele to try to draw a shape that had appeared in his mind. He had been disarmed by the Clary-shaped thing long ago, largely because he found it difficult to try and hurt anything that looked so much like Clary. He was battered and bruised all over, having been thrown around the metal room like a rag doll, and he had a bad feeling that his ankle wasn't so much sprained as broken now. He taken out his stele with the half-formed idea that if he drew in a few iratzes, he might be able to hold out until Magnus or Rebecca came to rescue him, when a strange image had come into his mind - a circular thing with a shape that spoke to him of sunlight and victory and warmth.

"I can't believe this is happening to me," Simon moaned. "I can't even draw stick figures properly!"

The demon was stalking closer now with a malicious grin that looked completely out of place on Clary's face. Simon put the finishing touch on the rune, held up his palm, and prayed.

A blast of blinding bright light shot out from the rune on his palm. The demon screamed and put out a hand to shield itself. Simon stared in disbelief as the demon crumpled, howling, and seemed to fold in on itself until within the span of a minute it had vanished entirely, leaving only scorch marks behind.  

Simon looked at his palm - the rune had faded into a pale scar, the light gone. "What the fuck just happened?"


	16. Chapter 16

 

Much to his own surprise, Simon managed to draw a passable rendition of the Unlock rune on his first try. The metal peeled back from the lines of the rune and streamed to the floor in ribbons, leaving a hole just big enough to crawl through. Wandering the dark and cold corridors with his seraph blade out for light, he eventually bumped into Magnus strolling around like he owned the place, and then found Rebecca trying to hack through the walls of her metal prison with her seraph blade.

"Um, so did you guys all have to face a boggart?" Simon asked nervously. 

"A what?" Magnus asked incredulously.

"A shape-shifting creature that takes the form of the thing you most fear," Rebecca explained. "From a storybook."

"That was a fear demon, actually. Yes, I did. Some sort of test, I assume," Magnus shrugged.

"How did you kill yours?" Simon asked, wondering how to broach the subject of the weird rune that had appeared in his mind.

"I stabbed it, of course," Magnus said coolly. 

"But how? That thing was like smoke!"

"Just because _you_ couldn't do it doesn't mean _I_ couldn't," Magnus said archly. "After all, I taught you both everything you know, and I think you'll agree the students have quite some way to go before they surpass the master."

"Ok, fair enough," Simon mumbled. 

"Technically, I did stab it too - or rather my seraph blade kind of... stabbed it on its own," Rebecca said. 

"Come again?" Magnus frowned.  

"The demon knocked the blade out of my hand, and it was out of reach, so I just sort of... wished I had a way to make it come back to me, and the blade flew back to my hand - after stabbing the demon in the back. I figured maybe I accidentally picked up a magical seraph blade from the weapons room?"

"That's impossible. Seraph blades don't work that way," Magnus said slowly. "The adamas makes it immune to enchantments other than the angel's runes." 

"Oh thank god, I thought I was the only one who had something weird happen," Simon said in a rush. "I had this rune appear in my mind, and I drew it on my palm and it shot out _sunlight_ or something."

"A sunlight rune? There's no such thing," Magnus said.

"I'm not kidding! Look, it's right here!" Simon held out his palm to show Magnus, though perhaps it was a bit too dark to really see anything.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Magnus tilted his head.  

"The rune scar, in the middle of my palm!"

"It looks like an egg." 

Simon sighed in frustration. Maybe he could ask Magnus again when they had a better source of light...

"I'd totally forgotten that I had this!" Digging into his pocket, Simon removed the smooth rune-stone Raphael had given him, and raised it high. A strong bright light burst between his fingers, and Magnus raised an eyebrow. 

"Witchlight?" he said.

"Yeah, Raphael gave it to me," Simon said.

Magnus looked surprised. "That was his mother's, you know."

"Oh. Are witchlight stones rare?" Simon asked in confusion. "Only he said that every shadowhunter should have one."

"Raphael is the only person I know who has one," Magnus snorted. "It's not rare, but it isn't really used anymore, now that most of the Institutes have electricity. The only places that still run on witchlight are the City of Bones and Alicante. And probably the Adamant Citadel." 

"City of what!?" 

"Adamas doesn't seem to react well to electricity. In places where a lot of adamas is used, we still use witchlight, which is the stone adamas is extracted from. The Silent Brothers live in the City of Bones, and Alicante is the shadowhunter home country."

"You guys have a whole secret country?!" Rebecca yelped.

" _We_ have a country. You are one of us too, Rebecca," Magnus reminded her.

"Alright, now check out that rune I was talking about-" Simon showed it to Magnus, and he shook his head.

"It isn't one of the angel's runes from the Gray Book."

"Ok. So apparently I get visions of runes that don't exist, Rebecca can use the Force, and you are the best shadowhunter to ever shadowhunter. Anyone seeing a pattern here?" 

"Excuse me, I'll have you know that I got where I am by a lot of hard work and sacrifice," Magnus said indignantly. "Do you think you get abs like these by wishing on a star?" 

"I don't know, man. Something weird is going on, like Alec said. Gods, I hope this isn't some sort of Hunger Games deal where this ship is the arena and we have to battle royale it out," Simon fretted.

"It’s fascinating,” Magnus said. “You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.”

"Why are we just wandering the corridors with a fricking beacon anyway?" Rebecca interrupted. "Shouldn't we be trying to be stealthy and finding a way to escape?"

Magnus snorted. "In case you'd forgotten, Asmodeus was the one who had us brought here, so there's no point being sneaky. We've passed our tests, so he must have other plans for us. I just didn't want to sit in my room to wait because I was bored and cold."

"Well, I have a feeling you don't have to worry about being bored for much longer," Simon gulped. 

 

Magnus followed Simon's gaze - by the powerful light of the witchlight stone, he could see a small group of people waiting for them, all obviously armed. For a moment, Magnus wondered why they were all so short - then he realised in horror that it was because they were children. 

"You know, when we were at the warlocks' apartment, and I asked if Asmodeus was raising a child army?" Rebecca whispered. "Someone please tell me I wasn't actually right."

"I wish I could, darling," Magnus murmured as they cautiously approached the group of children. 

There were five of them, all carrying normal swords because Asmodeus had probably not been able to acquire that many seraph blades, but it was clear that they were Nephilim, because all of them were heavily runed. Magnus felt the terrible fury that had overcome him when he had faced the fear demon boiling in his blood again - shadowhunter children usually received their first rune when they were between 10 to 12 years old, and these children were barely older than 10. Getting so many runes this young must have been agony. They had a slightly malnourished look and were all dressed in a mishmash of clothing that didn't necessarily fit, as if someone had raided a thrift store and allowed the children to dress themselves however they pleased. 

The children didn't seem daunted to be faced with three fully-grown possibly-hostile shadowhunters, standing their ground with a kind of dull boredom that chilled Magnus to his bones. Were they so well-trained and confident in their abilities that they had no fear of them, or were they not afraid because they had faced so much worse? The girl standing slightly in front appeared to be the leader of the group. She had big, luminous eyes that followed their progress closely, and frizzy hair that had been pulled neatly into two pigtail braids. When they were a few paces away from the group, she held out her sword in a clear indication that they were to stop. 

Magnus waited calmly as the other children fanned out and surrounded them - two behind, and two flanking them. She turned around and beckoned, indicating that they should follow her.

"So... what are your names?" Magnus asked. His question was greeted with stony silence. "Nobody? Alright, I'll go first - my name is Magnus."

As the silence grew, Simon finally blurted out, "I'm Simon, and this is my sister Rebecca." His sister shot him a displeased look.

The leader of the group glanced over her shoulder, frowning slightly. After another few minutes of silence, Magnus was about to try to start a conversation again when she finally replied, "I'm Madzie."

Her response was like the breaking of a dam - the other children began to shyly offer up their names: Duncan, a small, serious Chinese boy; Elias, a tall surly boy with his short hair tightly curled around his scalp; Gretel, who had hair so pale it was almost white; and Sebastian, a blond boy with a crooked grin.

"Where are all your parents?" Rebecca finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

All the children clammed up immediately, and Magnus resisted the urge to sigh. It would be impossible to get anything more out of them after this. He glanced around at them - Rebecca's question had surely brought back some bad memories, from the looks on their faces.

  

When Madzie finally stopped at an entrance that had probably once led to some sort of mess hall for the crew of the ship, she stopped and stepped aside. Magnus' heart was racing so fast he was sure everybody else could hear it, but he kept his face relaxed and neutral. 

"Is this us, then?" Magnus asked softly. "Thank you." She gave him a small smile.

Drawing on all the courage he had, Magnus strode confidently into the room with Simon and Rebecca trailing nervously behind. The room was quite big, and there were a few rows of children standing at attention - no more than two dozen of them. There were also a few adults in the room, shadowhunters - but definitely not people Magnus recognised as being from the Institute. There was a raised platform right at the end, and a tall man stood on it alone.

At the sound of their footsteps, the tall man turned to face them and the edges of his mouth tilted up in a cruel smile. He was very thin, with cheekbones as sharp as blades and a crown of steel-grey hair. Magnus felt a rush of relief that he bore little physical resemblance to his father - except, of course, for their gold-green eyes. 

"Father," Magnus greeted him, trying to aim for a tone of voice that was polite and vaguely cheerful, instead of the roiling hatred that was currently churning in his gut. There was a quickly-muffled gasp from somewhere behind him, probably one of the children that had escorted them here, and Magnus knew a brief pang of regret that he would never be able to make friends with them now. 

“My son,” Asmodeus smiled, predatory. “I was beginning to despair that I would ever see you.”

"Well - here I am," Magnus said brightly, with a bit of a flourish. One of the adult shadowhunters sneered, taking in Magnus' appearance.

"Asmodeus, I think you are in for a disappointment," another adult shadowhunter, this one a red-haired woman, laughed. "Just look at him - just look at the two Hales, cowering behind him. I think any of our beautiful children here could beat them into a bloody pulp with one hand tied behind their backs."

"Ah, but you see - they aren't ordinary shadowhunters," Asmodeus grinned. "When Barnabas Hale knew that his mundane wife was with child, he was afraid that the child would be tainted by her mundane blood. He didn't want any defective shadowhunters in his family tree, you see, so I offered him one of my special tinctures, and again for the child that followed. I'm afraid the exact ingredients for the tincture were too difficult to obtain again afterwards, but I am sure of the results."

"And your son?" she jeered.

"You know my first child was stillborn," Asmodeus said, and Magnus tried to hide his shock - he had never even knew that he was supposed to have a sibling. "When my wife became pregnant again, she was worried that she would lose the baby again, and that was when I started developing my tinctures. Obviously I hadn't quite perfected the recipe yet, so the results may have been a bit... unpredictable."

Magnus couldn't hide the flush that bloomed across his cheekbones then, to hear his own father talking about him like that, like he was some sort of abomination. But then, remembering what he had done to the fear demon... perhaps he was.

"You experimented on _us_? You experimented on _your own child_? What the hell is wrong with you?" Rebecca asked angrily.

"I made you _better_. I made you more lethal than any other shadowhunter," Asmodeus said haughtily. "And this is how you thank me?" 

"What was in the stuff you gave our mother?" Simon asked, voice strained.

"Are you asking me to give out my secrets now, boy?" Asmodeus laughed. "But there's no harm, I guess - like I said, the ingredients are difficult to come by. You and your sister were given a mixture of pure angel blood."

There were gasps of shock all around from all the adult shadowhunters in room, and some of the children were looking at Simon and Rebecca with new respect.

"And Magnus? What about Magnus?" Simon pressed on, and Magnus could have blessed the nerdy shadowhunter's inquisitive little heart because he didn't want to have to be the one to ask that question himself. 

Asmodeus shrugged. "It was a mistake. I thought I could create the perfect weapon, the ideal marriage of good and evil." He looked down at Magnus, lips curled in contempt. "A Shadowhunter with pure demon blood."

There were louder gasps all around, and the children closest to Magnus backed away from him. 

"I'd say it was a mistake," Magnus sniffed. "Sounds like you made me into some sort of angelic warlock, but I don't have any magical powers? Not even an interesting warlock mark? How boring!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, so other than Madzie, the other child shadowhunters are named after characters who have died on the show. Ave atque vale.


	17. Chapter 17

 

Clearly, Magnus' reaction wasn't what Asmodeus had been hoping for. Magnus was pleased to note the faint red flush of anger on his father's face and his fingers clenching at his sides like he wanted to jump off the stupid dais he had built for himself and strangle Magnus. Well, Magnus had absolutely no idea what sick game Asmodeus was playing, but whatever it was, two could play at it. Magnus was _excellent_ at pushing people's buttons.  

"Even if Magnus does have demon blood, he's still a better man than you will ever be!" Simon said loudly to make himself heard over the whispering and chattering that had started up after Magnus' proclamation.  

"I'm touched, Shane," Magnus said, pleased and a little surprised. 

"So touched that you might even actually start remembering my name?" Simon grinned.

"Let's not get carried away," Magnus grinned back.

Rebecca rolled her eyes at them. "Look, you said you'd let our friend go if we came to talk to you. We've let ourselves be kidnapped by flying demons, we each fought off one of your stupid fear demons, and now we're heard you say your piece about experimenting with us before we were born. I think it's time you upheld your side of the bargain."

There were more mutterings after Rebecca's little speech, and Magnus gathered from whatever he overheard that facing off a fear demon was used more as a death sentence on this ship. Asmodeus certainly looked more smug, now that they had inadvertently helped prove that he was right, and they weren't run-of-the-mill shadowhunters.

"It's already done," Asmodeus replied coolly. "I am a man of my word. Your friend was released as soon as you entered my ship."

"And are _we_ free to go now?" Magnus enquired. 

"I have an offer for you," Asmodeus said, voice rising as he obvious worked up to a big speech. "The Clave is hopelessly corrupt and must be destroyed and built again. We must uphold our sacred duty to protect the world from demonic threats and free the Clave from the influence of the degenerate races..." 

Blah, blah, more megalomaniac monologue, blah. If Magnus rolled his eyes any harder, they would be permanently stuck to the back of his head. 

"...In a few weeks' time, we march on Idris to establish our new world order. Join me, and fight on my side in this war, and you will know true glory."

"Would the 'degenerate races' include me, though?" Magnus asked wryly. "Also, I don't really care for the way you've been insinuating that my sexuality has anything to do with demon blood. I think I'll pass."

"You're trying to militarise children that you kidnapped. Where's the glory and honour in that?" Rebecca asked incredulously. "You can't seriously think we would want to be a part of this."

"That is too bad," Asmodeus shrugged. "I cannot force you to join me, it would not be right."

"Alright, then. Good talk, Dad," Magnus said, and turned to leave the room, to find his way barred by two of the children.

"I did not say that I would allow you to leave the ship alive, though," Asmodeus said carelessly. "I can't have you warning the Clave of my plans. Perhaps you would like a demonstration of how my little shadowhunters do in battle."

"Magnus, we can't possibly be fighting a bunch of kids," Simon hissed.

"Yes, and he's counting on it - that's part of their effectiveness," Magnus replied. "Rule number one, ok?"

Magnus smiled disarmingly at the two boys blocking their way - Duncan and Sebastian. "Sorry, boys."  

He leapt straight up and over the two children and their crossed swords, dropped to the floor when they turned to slash at him, and kicked their legs out from under them before they could react. Simon and Rebecca, who had been expecting this, immediately took advantage of the confusion to race out of the room as fast as they could, with Magnus hot on their heels. This was Magnus' "rule number one": he had been tasked with teaching them strategy as well, and the first one from the  _Thirty-Six Stratagems_ had been "when faced with a losing battle, retreat and regroup". 

Magnus overtook Simon and Rebecca by the next corner, and led them through the twisting maze of corridors and rusty stairwells. The footsteps behind them grew slightly fainter, but were never too far away. The entire lower decks of the ship seemed to be made of metal, and Simon felt certain that even with their soundless runes activated anybody would be able to hear their footfalls echoing through the cavernous metal hull and shuddering through the rickety metal struts and catwalks that made up the whole structure of the ship.

"This is insane, we're never going to outrun them," Rebecca wheezed. "This ship is huge but Asmodeus probably knows it like the back of his hand, and god knows what could be lurking in these rooms and corridors."

"So what's the plan?" Simon panted, struggling to keep up. 

"Get the kids out of here, take the Cup away from Asmodeus so he can't make more mini shadowhunters, and try not to die."

"That's not a plan, Magnus, that's a wishlist. I mean, how are we going to do all that? Even if the kids stay out of it, it's three of us against a dozen adult shadowhunters, a horde of demons and a whole lot of Forsaken." 

"Hell if I know," Magnus said cheerfully. 

"What?!"

"Look if you're expecting colour-coded charts and 12-step action plans, you're looking at the wrong person, ok? There's a reason why Catarina is the team leader, not me." 

"Oh god, we're going to die," Rebecca moaned.  

"Oh, ye of little faith," Magnus scoffed as he led them down another dark corridor to stop abruptly at a spot that Simon suddenly found very familiar.  

"Simon, did you do this?" Magnus asked in amazement, staring at the metal shredded into ribbons. 

"Um, yeah. Unlock rune, like I said. Is it not supposed to do this?" 

"I had to use six to weaken the wall enough to break it down," Magnus replied. "Is this your first time actually drawing runes by your own hand?" 

When Simon nodded, Magnus grinned. "Excellent."

  

When their pursuers rounded the corner, the hole in the wall was gone and the three shadowhunters were nowhere to be found. 

The children stopped and some branched off to check the area - they knew they were near the area where one of them had initially been imprisoned, but all of the walls looked untouched. How had they managed to escape, unless their powers included the ability to walk through walls...?  

Two adult shadowhunters joined them, an unpleasant couple that the children were forced to call Master and Mistress Dark. Mr Dark was a sour-faced, stout man with an unhealthy greyish complexion, while Mrs Dark was tall and thin, her hair almost colorless. 

"Where are the freaks?" the man barked. The children looked at the floor or at their shoes, avoiding eye contact, no-one daring to admit that they had lost them.  

The man cursed and spat on the floor. "This is all your fault!" he roared and cuffed Duncan none too gently around the head, and the boy stumbled and almost fell. "Clumsy and stupid! I can't believe the Cup found the likes of you worthy to join the ranks of the Nephilim."

"Why are you lot still standing here like a bunch of idiots? Spread out and find them, or it'll be on your head when Asmodeus finds out!" Mrs Dark screeched. 

The children scattered immediately, and in the panic and activity that followed, very few saw the pair of arms reaching out of the wall to grab the adult shadowhunters, pulling them through as if the wall had been no more than thin air. The children that had witnessed this strange turn of events exchanged astonished glances. Glamour? It must be very powerful glamour if even the Darks hadn't managed to see through it. Madzie narrowed her eyes at the wall, gave the others the signal to wait, and walked right through it. 

The three strange shadowhunters were waiting for her when she walked through. She glanced behind her and saw that there was a large hole in the wall, a hole nobody on the other side seemed to be able to see. 

"Hello Madzie," Magnus smiled at her, crouching down so he'd be the same height as her. "I was hoping it'd be you." 

She levelled her sword at him. At this height, his throat was exactly in line with her blade, but he didn't flinch away. He had the same eyes as Asmodeus, but while his father's were cold, his were warm. There were friendly lines on his face, like he was someone who laughed and smiled a lot. She glanced over at where the Darks were slumped in a heap in the corner of the room. 

"They are not hurt - well, not badly hurt," Magnus assured her. "We want to help all of you get away from Asmodeus, and get to somewhere safe. Will you let us help?" 

"How?" she finally whispered.  

"A friend of mine gave me something - a magic box. If it works - and it probably will, because Alexander is very, very clever - we could get all the children off the ship and into the New York Institute, where there are many nice adult shadowhunters and Asmodeus wouldn't dare to touch any of you."

"He has our parents. All our parents," she said. 

"On this ship? We could find them as well, bring them with us..."

Madzie shook her head violently. "No! They... He drew a lot of runes on them, but he didn't let them drink from the Cup, and they... they're not..." She looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack.  

"Shh, it's ok, we understand," Magnus said quickly, trying to calm the distressed girl down. "Slow, deep breaths, darling, just focus on my hands, you're doing great..."

"Shit," Simon muttered, taking his glasses off and cleaning them vigorously so he could hide his horror at the whole situation. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to know that your parents had been turned into rotting, mindless Forsaken.

"Madzie, what he did to your parents... It's not something that can be cured. If he promised you that he could do it, he was lying," Magnus said carefully, after she had calmed down a bit. 

"No, I know," she shook her head. "He didn't promise to cure them."

"Then what...?" 

"He said if we did as they told us to, he'd let us kill them ourselves," Madzie said softly. 

"What?" Simon asked, bewildered. 

"So that they wouldn't hurt anymore, you see. And they wouldn't hurt other people anymore either," Madzie explained, tears welling up in her eyes. "If we did it, by our own hands, then we would know for sure that they were dead. They would have died with love." 

A stunned silence greeted her explanation.

"I'm going to gut Asmodeus myself, and string him up by his balls," Rebecca seethed. 

"Language, Rebecca! Little ears!" Simon protested. 

"Well, if we find them... _when_ we find them... we'll try our best to do right by all of you. Would that be ok?" Magnus asked gently. 

"I mean, your parents would have wanted all of you to be safe, right?" Simon added hesitantly. "They wouldn't blame you for leaving them behind, not if it meant you guys would have a chance."

"What do you want in return?" she asked, and it broke Magnus' heart.  

"Nothing, sweet pea. Nothing at all," Magnus said firmly. 

She regarded him intently with her large eyes. "Alright," Madzie nodded. 

"Great! Now, if you could just help us gather all the other children..."

When Madzie had gathered the other children - a total of 26 of them - Magnus threw the black box on the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar swirl of a Portal burst out. 

"Remember, get to Alexander as quickly as you can, because we're going to need all the back-up we can get," Magnus said, urging Rebecca towards the Portal.  

"What if he can't Portal in even with the kids' help?" Rebecca asked worriedly.  

"He might still be able to find the ship despite the glamour and the wards, now that we can tell them the general location," Magnus shrugged. "He's powerful and he's resourceful; he'll think of something. Now go - I don't know how long the Portal will hold." 

Rebecca hugged Simon tightly one last time, took hold of Madzie's hand, and led the children through. The last of them had only just made his way through when the Portal closed with a snap. 

"Part one of the plan completed," Magnus said smugly. 

"Yeah," Simon said nervously. "Now it's two of us against the rest of this ship." 

"Between your fantastic rune power and my brilliant mind, I have a good feeling about this," Magnus clapped him on the shoulder. "Get out that stele, young Simon - we've got work to do."

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

When a Portal opened in the middle of the Institute library after midnight and disgorged Rebecca Lewis and two dozen terrified children, Alec had been engrossed in a small mountain of books and papers, while Ragnor sat at a table nearby gently snoring on his own small pile of books, and Raphael took a nap in one of the ancient wing-backed armchairs. 

At the ripping sound of the Portal opening and the hurried footfalls of the ship's refugees coming out of the Portal, Ragnor and Raphael both sprang awake, weapons drawn. Alec was also on his feet, heart in his throat. He scanned the horde of panicked children's faces, and Rebecca's pale, drawn one.

"Where's Magnus?" Alec asked at the same time that Raphael barked out "Where's Simon?"

"They're still on Asmodeus' ship," Rebecca told them, evidently trying to keep her voice calm for the sake of the children. "They need back-up, and quick." 

"I'll go let Mother and Cat know," Ragnor said, already halfway out of the door. 

" _El idiotas_ ," Raphael fumed. "I can't believe you let them stay behind."

"Magnus wanted to try and steal the Cup back from Asmodeus," Rebecca explained. "And please tell me Asmodeus didn't lie, and that he did release Clary. If she's still on that ship..."

"The coast guard picked her up from the Hudson River just after sunset," Raphael replied, his jaws clenched. "We're lucky they pulled her out of the water in time. She had demon venom in her body and was suffering from hypothermia. She's resting in the Infirmary now."

"Where did all these shadowhunter children come from?" Alec frowned.

"Um... remember I was wondering if Asmodeus had kidnapped whole families?" Rebecca said, trying to phrase it tactfully in front of the children. "He did."

Alec clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his temper in check. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions - anger at Asmodeus, but mostly an overwhelming mixture of fear and affection for Magnus. He should have known Magnus would do something like that, getting everyone else out and staying behind to fight. 

"How did you manage to open a Portal anyway?" Raphael asked.

"Um, that was me," Alec said absent-mindedly, already calculating how many favours he could pull to get a sizeable force together to storm Asmodeus' ship. "I gave Magnus a portable Portal." 

"You're Magnus' Alexander," one of the children piped up immediately. Alec looked at her in surprise. "He said you were very clever, and that you'd think of a way to get to the ship. Please, you have to get them back." 

"I... I will," Alec promised her.

Thora Fell and Catarina followed Ragnor into the library moments later. Thora smiled warmly at the children. "I'm Thora, the Head of the Institute. I had the kitchens start making hot cocoa and sandwiches, and we're clearing out some rooms and trying to find some new clothes from the stores for all of you." 

"Some of the slightly older shadowhunter children will be up here soon to help get all of you settled in," Catarina added. "You must all be exhausted. If you need anything - anything at all, just let us know, ok?"

"I'm going to send some fire messages and grab some supplies," Alec said quickly. "I will be right back."

He pulled open a Portal, and some of the children gasped.

"He's not a shadowhunter? Why is he here?" one of them asked in astonishment. "Why is he helping you?"

The adults exchanged slightly puzzled glances, then realisation dawned - these children were mundanes, and had been captive on the ship all this while. They had never seen downworlders, or at least had only been exposed to downworlders that Asmodeus had wanted to use to illustrate the hatefulness of demon-blooded creatures. Goodness knows what lies he had fed them - probably portraying the downworlders as mindless beasts, or demonic evil beings no better than actual demons, Alec thought. 

"Is that something all the creatures with demon blood can do?" one boy asked. "Magnus did that too, with the box."

"That was my box. Magnus is a shadowhunter, he doesn't have demon blood," Alec said in confusion.

"Asmodeus said he did," another child said. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Raphael snarled.

"Let's get all the kids to bed first," Rebecca said wearily. "We have _a lot_ to talk about."

 

In a dark metal room in the ship that still carried the burnt-sugar smell of warlock magic, Magnus and Simon were lying in a corner with binding runes on their wrists and ankles, and the rune of quietude at the back of their necks.

In another part of the ship, Mr and Mrs Dark were hurrying along the dark corridors towards the hall where they had last seen Asmodeus, having a very strange conversation.

"This is _so weird_ ," Mrs Dark was saying, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Tell me about it," Mr Dark muttered. "I have never been so unattractive in my life."

"Why did _I_ have to be Mrs Dark?" the skinny woman complained, tripping a bit over her low heels.

"Because I'm a better actor than you, and Asmodeus is the sort of sexist prick who has no respect for women and wouldn't care what you were doing anyway?" Mr Dark snorted. "Look, Sigmund, we discussed this - you just keep quiet and look angry, and let me do the talking." 

"Honestly, I still think I should have just stayed out of this completely, I'm pretty much useless." 

"While I'm sure you are indeed hopeless at many things, you aren't useless - we wouldn't be here without that new shape-shifting rune you came up with."

"God, don't remind me. I have no idea how long this rune will last," Simon reached up to his face to adjust his glasses by habit. Mrs Dark didn't wear any, but he could still feel the glasses on his face, and it was honestly the weirdest feeling ever. 

"Just draw it again before we go in, to be on the safe side," Magnus shrugged. "You _can_ draw it again, right?" 

"I guess so? I'm not sure how it works, exactly." 

"You came up with this rune, what do you mean you don't know how it works?" Magnus asked irritably. 

"Well, I was thinking of polyjuice potion, you see, and how it would be great if we had something like that-"

"In English, please. I don't speak nerd," Magnus said impatiently.

"Says the guy with stacks of comic books in his room," Simon shot back. Magnus gave him a withering look, which looked very odd on Mr Dark's face because he didn't seem like a very sassy sort of guy. 

"Alright, so anyway. I think I need to actually have something belonging to the person with me to hold on to when I'm drawing the rune, for that rune to work," Simon confessed.

"And you couldn't have mentioned this earlier?" Magnus huffed in exasperation.

"I was a bit preoccupied with the fact that your plan involved voluntarily going back to look for Asmodeus! Wouldn't he be the first person to see through our disguises? We don't even know how these people are supposed to behave. Why couldn't we just go search his office or something?"

"Do you honestly think he'd leave something like that lying around?" Magnus scoffed. "People like him don't trust anyone, not even their so-called followers. He works alone. He'll have it with him." 

"How big is this Cup anyway? It's not like he can stash it in his back pocket," Simon pointed out. "And how do you even plan to trick him to get the Cup out from wherever he's hiding it? What are you going to do, frisk him?" 

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Magnus waved his hand airily.

"Great, my favourite kind of plan - no plan," Simon sighed.

  

When they approached the hall, Magnus dropped his usual fluid movements and stooped a little. His footfalls became heavier, his face fixed in a grimace. Simon thought Magnus had missed out on a very successful career as an actor. 

"Asmodeus!" Magnus boomed out in Mr Dark's harsh voice as they entered the room. "Your brat has escaped with the children!"

Some of the adult shadowhunters were still in the room with Asmodeus - Simon counted six, which meant that another four or five of them were off somewhere else on the ship, excluding the Darks. 

"Is that so? Weren't you supposed to keep an eye on the children, Claude?" Asmodeus said, sounding bored.

"He got the drop on us. When we woke up, they were all gone," Magnus replied, stomping towards the dais.

"All gone?" the red-haired shadowhunter woman screeched. "All our beautiful children, gone?"

"Sit down, Iris," Asmodeus said firmly. "I won't have your hysterics here."

"But all of them... all our years of hard work-"

"No matter, we can always make more," Asmodeus said with a shrug. "Here, I'll just pass Claude and Imogen the Cup and let you both get on with it, shall I?" 

Magnus stiffened. 

"My name isn't Imogen, it's Mildred," Simon said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. 

Asmodeus raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you actually managed to find out their names. The children have been paying better attention than I expected." 

Magnus straightened up and relaxed his posture immediately, smiling cockily at Asmodeus even as the other shadowhunters started to close in on them. "What gave us away?"

"A little bird told me," Asmodeus said with a sly smile.

"Shit," Magnus cursed under his breath.

"What?" Simon asked, panicked.

"I forgot about the demon birds. They went out through the skylight in the room, they must have been keeping watch from above even after we'd left the rooms."

"Is this what you were looking for?" Asmodeus drew a card out of an inner pocket in his jacket. It was quite a large card, larger than his hand, and it looked like a tarot card - the Ace of Cups. The cup depicted in the card was a mixture of gold and glass, and reminded Simon of pictures of the Holy Grail. "I had a warlock make this for me, just in case - a pretty bit of magic, isn't it? Unfortunately for you, I'm the only person who can take the Cup out of the card." 

"I'm surprised any warlock agreed to work for you, and if they did, it must have been for a steep price," Magnus observed. "You've been on the run from the Clave pretending to be dead, and all the Bane family property has been confiscated. Where would you get the money to pay for that? That could be just an ordinary card, for all we know."

"Am I supposed to take the Cup out to prove that it is inside this card, so that you can try to grab it from me?" Asmodeus sneered. "In fact, I didn't have to pay a cent for it. Now, warlocks are notoriously difficult to get hold of, but some years ago I managed to catch one who foolishly tried to rescue a pack of werewolves on his own. It's amazing how agreeable people get when you twist off half their fingers and toes. Well, I'm using the word 'people' here very loosely..."

This information seemed to strike a nerve in Magnus. "You're a monster," Magnus hissed. 

"Says the demon-blooded abomination," Asmodeus laughed. He turned to address Simon, "I'm disappointed in you. I would have thought, having pure angel blood in your veins would turn you off even being near something like him."

To Simon's surprise, Magnus just laughed. "I think I know what's going on," Magnus smirked. "You claim you despise demons and the demon-blooded, so why would you even put demon blood in your own child in the first place?

"I think you were hoping that when you brought me here I would join you, be your right-hand man in your delusional crusade. But I wasn't the nice little model shadowhunter boy you were hoping for, so you changed your mind and thought you'd tear me down and turn my friends against me. Well, I honestly don't care if you were lying, and I actually have angel blood, or you were telling the truth, and I have demon blood. You could have injected me with radioactive sludge for all I care. Alexander was right. I had to meet you, if only to know for sure that I am nothing like you - and now I do."

" _Children_ ," Asmodeus' face twisted into an ugly grimace. "Always thinking they know better than their parents. Well, son - let's see how well your self-righteousness serves you when you finally see the truth about the Clave and the Downworld. Seize them!"

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

Alec breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the Portal connect. "Thanks, Madzie." The little shadowhunter girl, already dressed in a comfortable T-shirt and pajamas pants someone had managed to dig up, gave him a small shy smile and let go of his hand. The connection was tenuous, but Alec had had a brainwave about adding the blood connection Madzie had to her parents who were still on the ship, and that had been enough to break through the wards. It would probably hold just long enough for their ragtag rescue team to get through, if they hurried.

The shadowhunters went through first, about a dozen including the young shadowhunters that made up Magnus' adopted family; then a small group of werewolves, headed by Luke Garroway - mostly cops, going in with guns as well as fangs and claws; a dozen vampires Jace had bullied into joining, a group of thuggish ill-mannered bloodsuckers who spent a lot of time watching football in pubs and who were just in it for the opportunity to rough up rogue shadowhunters; and finally Alec, Izzy, and a few other warlocks who had their own personal axe to grind with Asmodeus.

They had decided to Portal into the room the children had left from, to keep the element of surprise. But the moment they stepped through the Portal, the first thing they saw was Magnus and Simon slumped in a corner of the room, clearly unconscious.

"Simon!" Rebecca rushed towards the prone figures. She shook him, but he didn't wake up, and his arms and legs sat at strange angles, as if they were bound together.  

"Binding runes and a rune of quietude," Raphael said after a quick check on Magnus and Simon. 

"It's not them, though," Alec said, frowning. "It can't be. It doesn't make sense. They wouldn't be left here if they had been caught. Asmodeus would keep them close, keep them under watch."

"I wonder..." Ragnor murmured as he scanned their arms and legs. "Here - I've never seen this rune before."

"You think this is Simon's work?" Raphael frowned. 

"Of course, Mr and Mrs Dark," Catarina said. "Simon must have managed to disguise Magnus and himself as Asmodeus' henchmen, and left these as decoys."

"What are we still here nattering about?" one of the vamps complained. "Aren't we supposed to be fighting some shadowhunters? Present company excluded, of course."

Alec rolled his eyes and glared daggers at Jace, who shrugged helplessly. "It was short notice. I brought whoever I could find."

Ragnor brought out his stele and carefully slashed through the odd rune on "Magnus"'s arm - his appearance rippled, and wavered, then settled into that of an unpleasant-looking stout man. The man grunted and shifted, but did not wake.

"That's one powerful rune of quietude," Ragnor observed. "The world could come down around his ears and he wouldn't wake."

"Let's slash through the rune on this one too, I hate seeing Simon looking like this," Rebecca pleaded.

Alec's skin crawled. He looked all around the room, then glanced up, and frowned. Had he seen something moving in the night sky through the skylight? "We'd better hurry. I have a feeling our advantage isn't going to hold for long," Alec said.

Catarina nodded her agreement. "Let's go with what we discussed - split the group in half, and take opposite ends of the ship. Remember, everything is fair game, but try to dispatch of any Forsaken cleanly and respectfully."

There were some rumbles of displeasure from the vamps, but everyone moved out from the room quickly enough. Alec's team, consisting of Magnus' friends, the werewolves, and two warlocks named Raj and Longford, had elected to take the prow of the ship, since from the rough map of the ship the children had tried to draw for them, they would be more likely to find Asmodeus there. Izzy and Jace would lead the rest to explore the rest of the ship with the objective of taking down Asmodeus' demon and Forsaken army.

Alec's team went straight to the big hall first, the one with the dais - there were signs of a battle, and they found one dead shadowhunter there, but no other sign of either Magnus or Simon. 

"We don't even know if they look like themselves or whether they still look like Mr and Mrs Dark," Rebecca fretted.

"If I were them, I'd keep the disguise, to throw off their opponents," Ragnor observed. 

"The body is still warm," Luke announced, standing up. "They should still be close." 

"I vote for above decks," Raphael said. "They might have thought they could jump off the ship, if it came to that."

"No," Alec cut in, remembering the uneasy feeling he had had in the room under the skylight. "There are only two of them, and they'd be far too exposed on the deck. It's more likely that they've glamoured themselves and are hiding somewhere in the bowels of this ship."

"Interesting theory," Ragnor said. "That leaves us with a lot of dark corridors to search for two invisible people who probably aren't aware that the calvary has arrived."

"We don't necessarily have to find _them_ ," Alec pointed out. "We could find Asmodeus before he gets to them at all."

"Crime prevention is better than cure. I like the way you think," Luke grinned. He tapped his nose. "Follow us - I think we've caught the scent."

  

Simon had thought he would be dead by now. It was only thanks to Magnus that he wasn't - when Asmodeus' henchmen had made a move on them, Magnus had probably spent more time trying to defend all of Simon's weak spots than actually fighting their attackers. And if it hadn't been bad enough that Simon was barely trained, fighting shadowhunters - other human beings - had been a horrible experience Simon did not want to have to repeat. He had only ever fought demons and Forsaken before this; the demons had obviously been monsters, and the Forsaken so tormented and warped that they hadn't even felt really alive anymore, more like zombies. But other shadowhunters, even if they were on the side of the bad guy - they bled red, just like anybody else. It had been difficult to watch Magnus stab that man, to hear him cry out in pain.  

It had provided them enough of a distraction to run (both of them exchanging looks and rolling their eyes when they had heard Asmodeus yelling after them, calling them cowards and insisting that they stand and fight - what did he take them for, idiots?)

"What now? When do you think back-up is going to get here?" Simon whispered. 

"Don't count on back-up until it arrives. I'm afraid it's just the two of us for now," Magnus shrugged. "Personally, I'd be prepared to play hide-and-seek with massive stakes for a few days."

"A few days? Are you forgetting that we need food and water?" 

"No, I can live off the still-beating hearts and desperate tears of my enemies," Magnus said archly.

"Very funny. Are you ok, though? After what happened back there?"

"I'm fine," Magnus snapped, his easy carefree demeanor dropping abruptly. 

"Alright, geez." 

They walked in silence for a while, then Magnus sighed. "Actually. No, I'm not fine. That... that's the first time I've killed another human being," Magnus said quietly. "I have a feeling it's not going to be my last."

Magnus always seemed to put together, so sure of himself and battle-hardened. "If it makes you feel better, you had to do it because my ass needed saving," Simon offered.

"Your ass always needs saving," Magnus scoffed. "And I always seem to get stuck with you, so that does not improve my prospects of never having to kill another fellow human being."

"Fair enough. Hey, am I just hallucinating because I'm actually really thirsty, or do you hear something that sounds like water?"

"We are on a ship, Spencer. We're surrounded by water," Magnus deadpanned.  

"No, I mean like... a gurgling sound." 

Magnus stopped and cocked his head. "I think you might be right, but I'm not sure now is the time to investigate mysterious noises." He turned to Simon, then grinned. "Who am I kidding? It's always time to investigate mysterious noises."

It was easy enough to find the door, and the door wasn't even locked, but Simon soon regretted drawing attention to the noise, because what they found could fuel his nightmares for years. There were demon-creatures bound with electrum chains, pierced with weapons, being drained of blood, some still writhing and flopping and gurgling; but worst of all were the bodies of Downworlders, in different stages of death and dying. There were werewolves, their bodies half-dissolved by silver powder. Vampires held head-down in holy water until their skin peeled off the bones. Faeries whose skin had been pierced with cold iron, pinned to the wall like butterflies.  

"What the hell is this?" Simon whispered in revulsion. 

"Experiments," Magnus frowned, then cursed. "The children... If he had no qualms injecting his own son with demon blood, what do you think Asmodeus would have done with two dozen mundane children at his mercy?"

"And we sent them straight into the Institute," Simon said, swallowing hard.

 

The werewolves led them through a winding path into the depths of the ship, into the opposite end of the ship where Izzy and Jace had gone. Apparently Asmodeus had assumed that Magnus and Simon would go straight for the Forsaken that had been the parents to the children that were now safely in the Institute. From the looks of things, Asmodeus had set them all loose, and had probably given the Forsaken orders to hunt down the two shadowhunters.

"We didn't see any of the Forsaken on our way here, and I bet they would be hard to miss," Catarina observed. 

"No sign of Asmodeus still, and no sign of the other team that was headed this way either," Ragnor nodded. "Is it just me, or does it all seem far too quiet around here? We haven't seen any other living thing after all this time. The ship is big, but it's not _that_ big." 

"You think it's a trap of some kind?" Luke asked.

Raphael turned to Alec. "You thought it'd be a bad idea to go above deck, you said it was too exposed."

Alec nodded. "There's something up there."

"Alright, then let's just go and meet whatever is up there head-on," Raphael suggested. 

"Ok, hold up a second," Raj, one of the other warlocks, interrupted. "When we agreed to give aid to the High Warlock, I thought we were just going to catch Asmodeus by surprise and take him out. I didn't sign up to look for two missing shadowhunter brats, and I most certainly am not going to walk voluntarily into a trap!"

"Why is Asmodeus so obsessed with two teenaged shadowhunters anyway?" Longford, the other warlock, chimed in. "From what you've been saying, it sounds like one of them has some sort of special powers, beyond what the Nephilim can normally do?"

"Look, it's not our fault, ok?" Rebecca said hotly. "Asmodeus did something to us before we were even born!"

"You too? How many more of them are there?" Raj demanded, rounding on Alec. "You can't keep information like this secret, you have a duty to our people!" Alec stood his ground, drawing himself to his full height, but did not answer.

"Before you were born?" Longford frowned. "But Asmodeus has been in hiding, we thought he was dead for years. How would he get access to shadowhunter children?"

"Look, this is hardly the time or place for this discussion," Luke said, trying to keep the peace. "We should focus on the task at hand. There are lives at stake here." 

"This is warlock business, fleabag," Raj sneered. "What would your kind know of anything? Of the downworlders, the werewolves are the only mortals. You live short lives, and have even shorter memories. None of you would remember the Circle, or remember what Asmodeus is capable of."

"You have not been straight with us, Lightwood," Longford said accusingly. "There is more to this than meets the eye. How are these special shadowhunter children related to Asmodeus? Are they his children?"

"I'm not his child," Rebecca said quickly.

"Then at least one of the boys we are looking for is," Longford said, reading between the lines.

"Wait - are you telling me that we've spent an hour being led around in the dark by a bunch of fleabags so we can rescue _Asmodeus' son_?" Raj said angrily.

"We are warlocks, Raj. We of all people should know better to judge people by their parentage," Alec said sternly, although he was keenly aware that not too long ago, he too had reacted badly when he had first found out about Magnus' father. 

"If Asmodeus wants to tear his own son limb from limb, he is welcome to do so," Raj sneered. He nodded to Longford, and together they worked against the wards and opened a swirling Portal. "The Downworld will hear of this, Lightwood. We will make sure of it."

"You both owed me a favour, a blood debt," Alec said calmly. "You offered me aid as payment, but you have not delivered."

"Are you threatening us, Lightwood?" Raj growled.

"I am not forcing you to stay. But if you choose to leave, then I demand a different payment - I demand that you keep this information to yourselves, both about their special powers and the existence of Asmodeus' son," Alec said coolly. "I swear to you that they do not pose any harm to our people."

"If you swear that it is so, then we will keep this quiet for as long as it remains true," Longford offered evenly.

"We'll be keeping an eye on you, Lightwood. You can be sure of that," Raj said, casting a baleful look at Alec before the two warlocks disappeared through the Portal. 

"And the werewolves? Will you still stand with us?" Alec asked Luke.

"Simon is the closest thing to a son that I got," Luke said, looking Alec in the eye. "And like you said, you can't lay what Asmodeus has done on his kid."

"We wouldn't be very good cops if we let this madman get away with whatever he's cooking," another werewolf nodded. 

"Alright, up we go then. I hope the other team has been having better luck than us!" Rebecca sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can tell I wrote this chapter under the influence of all the parabatri feels from SDCC'17 :P


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

The ship had passed the bridges of the East River and was heading out into the open water between Staten Island and Manhattan, the lights of the downtown financial district shimmering on the water, but Alec had no time to appreciate its beauty - he was too busy fighting for his life.  

He was covered in ichor and blood, and his eyes stung with sweat. There was an ichor-burn on his left shoulder, and he had no spare magic left to waste on healing it, so a jolt of pain shot down his side every time he moved his arm. 

They were grossly outnumbered, had been from the start. By the time they had made it to above the deck, Izzy and Jace had already been there, with another warlock and one other shadowhunter - and that was all that was left of their half of the rescue team. None of the other vampires had survived, and they had lost six shadowhunters to whatever lurked below the decks of Asmodeus' ship. Even though there were no Forsaken here - yet - the four survivors of Izzy's team had been struggling to hold back the onslaught from the monstrous flying demons that swooped out from the sky at them, the dozen rogue shadowhunters who were formidable even though they were using normal weapons, and of course Asmodeus himself. 

It was obvious how Asmodeus had managed to gather such support from those who had formed his Circle. He probably had charisma, and certainly his disgusting "ideals" had probably resonated with a certain faction of the shadowhunters. But in a warrior culture like theirs, fight prowess was everything, and it was clear that Asmodeus was an exceptional fighter. Izzy might have enjoyed using her magic for fun things, but she was a powerful warlock in her own right, and certainly could hold her own in a fight, but even she was barely fending off his blows, his blade narrowly missing her several times, pressing too close to Izzy for Alec to bear.

When they stormed up the deck, and Alec had immediate shot a blue fireball at Asmodeus, he hadn't even blinked an eye before jumping easily out of the way.  

"Stand down," Luke immediately barked, his gun out. All the werewolves followed suit. "You're outnumbered now."

"Surrender to the authority of the Clave," Catarina said in a clear, firm voice.

"Do you honestly think that I don't know everything that goes on in my ship?" Asmodeus sneered. "Filthy downworlders, and a bunch of children. Is this the best the Clave can come up with?" 

He stepped back from Isabelle, his shadowhunters closing the ranks around him, and reached into his jacket. Alec narrowed his eyes as he watched Asmodeus pull out a gilded little cup that fit neatly into his hand from its impossible hiding place.

"Behold!" Asmodeus said triumphantly. "To the depths of the dark, I call thee! Come forth, denizens of the Void, and by the Cup I command thee!"

Then the night sky seemed to crack open with a horrible ripping noise, and through the break in the world came a horde of dark shapes, humped and twisted, gnarled and faceless, letting out a terrible scream that seared the inside of his mind. An icy wind swept across the deck as they swarmed out in an overwhelming flood. Below them, the water churned with indescribable things, a boiling mass of slippery black tentacles and huge glowing eyes.

In his long life, Alec had never experienced a battle like this. It was a chaos of screaming and howling and grunting, and there were demons everywhere, and they didn't seem to care what they were killing, as long as blood was spilled. Demons tore into other demons, and one of Asmodeus' own shadowhunters who had reacted on instinct and slashed at something that looked like a huge spider, went down with a yell. 

The deck of the ship grew slippery with blood and ichor. He had lost sight of Jace almost immediately, and he only knew that at least some of Magnus' friends were still alive because of the occasional bright burst of light from a seraph blade. The lights of the city reflected off the coats of the occasional werewolf in flashes of silver. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Izzy's magic lashing out, a bright red whip that sang through the air as it sliced the nearest demon in half - at least he knew she, too, was still alive. 

Perhaps Alec ought to have been frightened, but he had grown numb in the fear and worry for his family and new friends and allies. All he felt now was disgust at the demons, who were parasites that did not belong in this world, and rage at Asmodeus, for summoning them here and putting the whole world at risk for his petty show of power. He shot blast after blast of magic at the oncoming horde, but there seemed to be no end to it. Even his magic had limits. He had to get to Asmodeus; he had to get to the Cup, before the demons won by sheer force of numbers.

"For every one of you, I can summon a thousand more demons. It is you who should surrender, young Nephilim. Join me, and I will spare you!" Asmodeus cried, his voice ringing out clearly over the water despite the din of the battle. 

"Why don't you take that stupid Cup and shove it up your ass!" a voice Alec recognised as Rebecca's shouted back. 

"Ok, not the battle cry I would have gone for, but it does have a certain charm," a familiar voice said near Alec, and his heart skipped a beat when he turned to find Magnus smirking from the shelter of a recess in the metal wall of the ship.

 

"Magnus," Alec breathed out in relief. The shadowhunter boy was also completely covered in blood and ichor, and obviously exhausted from the battle, but he still smiled brilliantly at Alec.

A spider demon scuttled toward them, chittering and spitting yellow venom. They ducked, but Alec still felt a few drops of the poison splattering his shirt, hissing as it ate through the material and burned his skin like a dozen tiny superheated needles. Before the demon could hit them with another jet of venom, Magnus leapt onto the back of the gigantic spider. It hissed and tried to buck him off to no avail, and Magnus drove his blade straight through its massive head. The spilled venom had formed a barrier between them and the surrounding demons, and Alec took advantage of the momentary breather to turn to Magnus beside him. 

"Are you ok? And Simon?"

"We're fine. When we parted, Simon was still invisible and stabbing demons in the back," Magnus shrugged. "I'm absolutely filthy, though. I could kill for a shower. You're welcome to join me," Magnus winked.

"You're impossible," Alec huffed out a breathless chuckle.

Magnus grinned, unrepentant. "How about you?" 

"I'm fine, but we have to end this, and quickly. We're too badly outnumbered." 

"Yes, and we really have to get back to the Institute," Magnus said, suddenly sombre. "I think this is a distraction." 

"What do you mean?"

"The children... I'd be prepared to swear that they didn't know, but I suspect Asmodeus experimented on them," Magnus explained. "They could be ticking time bombs, and we sent them all to the Institute."

"You think he planned for you to rescue them?" Alec frowned.

"I don't want to underestimate him." 

Alec nodded. Spider venom or not, he and Magnus were sitting ducks out here in the open - their enemies would not be held back for long. "I'll get as close as I can." 

" _I_ was going to say that!" Magnus protested. "He as good as killed my mother, I should be the one to face him."

"He killed my brother," Alec countered fiercely.

"Alright. Then we face him together," Magnus replied stubbornly.

Alec opened his mouth to protest. Gold-green eyes met his hazel eyes, unyielding. He nodded. "Together."

Magnus grinned, but there was a feral edge to it now. "Let's play."

As it turned out, Magnus did have something else in common with his father, after all - he fought with the same ruthlessness and skill, with a calculated viciousness that surprised Alec. He fought with a hatred that was too personal, like every demon had his father's face. 

Alec sent a wave of blue fire over an entire squadron of spiny bug-eyed demons, and called over his shoulder, "So that's 30 to me and what, 10 to you?" 

Jolted out of the dark head space he had been in, Magnus gave a startled laugh. "I didn't realise we were keeping the score, Alexander." 

"I always play to win," Alexander deadpanned, pleased to see the familiar mischievous spark back in Magnus' eyes.  

Magnus whirled around with his twin blades out and took off the heads of two skeletal demons with a flourish. "Oh you're _on_ , Alexander."

If they had been formidable before, together they were unstoppable. Magnus weaved in and out around Alec’s spells with his blades slashing and singing, the two of them locked in an intricate, deadly dance that cut a path through the hordes of demons to where Asmodeus was observing the mayhem with his followers, the Cup in his hands as he watched their progress through narrowed eyes. 

"Hello, Father," Magnus said through gritted teeth as his seraph blade clashed with that of one of Asmodeus' henchmen, and the force of Magnus' blow broke the other sword in half. 

Alec blasted two other rogue shadowhunters off the ship into the demon-infested waters before the others could react. It was still eight against two, but it appeared that Asmodeus could not let go of the Mortal Cup if he wanted to keep the demons he had summoned under his control.  

Asmodeus hesitated for a split second, then slipped the Cup into his jacket before drawing his own blade - and if it had been chaos before, the madness that followed was beyond imagining. The demons nearest to them immediately turned on Asmodeus and his followers, and Alec watched in horror as throngs of them escaped the confines of the ship, disappearing into the air and water, now free to terrorise mundane New York. 

"This is on you, Magnus!" Asmodeus shouted over the melee, the dark delight clear in his voice. "All that blood is on your hands now!" 

 

It was too early for Halloween, but perhaps it was publicity for a movie or TV show, or perhaps some sort of flash mob for a political statement? Along the streets of New York City, bewildered passersbys watched a group of thirty or forty people, a mix of men and women who were made up to look like zombies, trudging from the docks to an abandoned church on Deighton.  

The make-up was really fantastic though. Even up close, you couldn't have told that they were wearing prosthetics. Their clothes were ripped and torn and filthy, barely more than rags, and some had clothes so thread-bare it was bordering on indecency. And the actors must have been really committed to their parts, because they all smelled like they had rolled around in something rotting and dead. Some of them were holding weapons - crude axes and blades that had stains that looked like dried blood but surely must have just been artfully placed rust or paint. There were a few handphones taken out to take photos, and more than a few stares. But the focus of the group never wavered, their dead eyes fixed on nothing but still staring straight ahead.

Nobody called the police - not that that would have been any use, and nobody tried to stop their inexorable forward march.  

At the head of this terrible army, a slim, red-haired woman was smiling. "Blood calls to blood, my beautiful children," Iris whispered, madness in her eyes. "Blood calls to blood."


	21. Chapter 21

 

New York City was going to be under siege. This was bigger than them, bigger than whatever was going on on this ship, bigger than a stupid tussle over a stupid Cup. They had to go back to the city. This ship was a death trap anyway - with Asmodeus actively deciding not to control the demons he had summoned, everything and everyone was fair game. It would be smarter to just abandon this losing battle and hope for another chance to stop Asmodeus, and hope that that opportunity would come soon enough that he wouldn't have a chance to rebuild his child army.

Alec sought out Izzy in the chaos of the battle, and when his eyes met hers, he knew his sister was thinking of the same thing. She was already calling everyone to her, preparing to open a Portal.  

Magnus was still pressing his attack on Asmodeus and his followers. "Catarina! You have to bring everyone back to the Institute!" Magnus yelled. 

"We are not leaving you behind again!" Ragnor shouted fiercely, but Magnus just shook his head.  

Alec was moving towards Izzy, but now he hesitated. What was Magnus up to now? He couldn't possibly be thinking of staying?

"I'm going to end this tonight, one way or another," Magnus told Asmodeus defiantly. 

"You are a very arrogant boy," Asmodeus sneered, his blade clashing against Magnus'. 

"Thanks - apparently it's hereditary," Magnus bared his teeth in a humourless grin. 

"Magnus!" Ragnor shouted again as Izzy opened the Portal, the surviving werewolves already bounding through.

"Go!"

"Not without you!" Ragnor shouted, trying to fight off Raphael, who was pulling him towards the Portal. 

"Go. I'll stay with Magnus," Alec finally said, conveying a silent apology to Izzy.

Izzy opened her mouth to protest, shook her head, and gave him a watery smile. She grabbed Raphael and Ragnor by their arms and pushed them into the Portal with her - it snapped shut, leaving Alec and Magnus alone to face a ship full of demons and rogue shadowhunters.

  

They went from one nightmare to another. It was the wee hours of the morning, so it was a small mercy that the streets were not very crowded with human traffic, but it was now filled with a far more terrible crowd.

As they ran through the streets, they saw other beings from the shadow world fighting the demons, with varying degrees of success. There were werewolves in full wolf form using demons as chew toys, warlocks shooting electrifying nets and fireballs of different colours, a few vampires tearing into demons with their superior strength... and people dressed like hippies strangling demons with vines?  

"Seelies," Raphael explained, seeing Simon's confusion. "The Seelie Queen usually does not bother with demons unless they encroach on her territory. These are not members of the Seelie Court, just outliers. She will lend them no aid, and they will no gain no honour even if they fall, in a battle like this." 

"Not many vampires out here either?" Rebecca noticed, panting.

"The Head of the New York Clan isn't very... involved," Jace explained. "That's why I only managed to get those few guys, and even then I think they only agreed because they were pretty drunk."

"I didn't know vampires could get drunk. Is that why they all died, back on the ship?"

"No, we got mixed up in... hell, I don't know what those things were, but it was like fighting smoke, and they could change their shape into whatever your worse nightmare was..."

"Oh, those. Yeah, we had to deal with those too," Simon said in commiseration.  

"Anyway, I only got out because Izzy saved my arse," Jace shook his head. It was hard to think of vampires having worst nightmares and fears, but apparently they did. "The other guys didn't stand a chance." 

The survivors from Asmodeus' ship scattered, each with their own people to protect. Simon couldn't help but notice, as they were running down the street towards the Institute, that there were no shadowhunters on the streets here joining the rest of the shadow world in the fight against the demons. That struck Simon as really strange when they were so close to the shadowhunter headquarters. Wasn't this what shadowhunters were trained for, wasn't this their sacred calling? 

When the towering spires of the New York Institute came into view, the reason for the lack of shadowhunters became very apparent. The steps of the Institute were teeming with Forsaken warriors, and a red-haired shadowhunter Simon recognised as one of Asmodeus' followers was battling - was that Thora Fell? Simon had thought Thora had retired from active duty years ago, but it seemed a shadowhunter's work was never done. He had never seen her in gear before, but still she cut an impressive figure, a warrior at heart. Watching her, he suddenly realised where Magnus had learnt to fight like that with his double blades. 

Sigurd Fell, too, was dressed in gear, and the quiet academic's weapon of choice turned out to be a pair of heavy axes. The Fells were certainly winning most badass parents of the year in Simon's books.  

When Thora spotted them, her relief was palpable. "Go and help protect the mundanes!" she shouted at them. "We have this covered!" The red-haired rogue shadowhunter laughed, a mad, delirious sound, and swung her sword at Thora.

"Like hell you do," Jace muttered, his fangs already dropping.

"Why are you still here?" Raphael growled. "Don't you have some other leech buddies to hang out with, or do you just have no friends?"

"Clary is still inside there," Jace scowled, indicating the Institute. "I assure you, I'm not here to save _your_  arse."

Simon was so, so tired of fighting. He wanted to take a shower with scalding hot water just so he was sure he could rid his skin of all the blood, then lie down and sleep for a week. He didn't want to hear the horrible dying gurgles of demons and Forsaken when he stabbed them, he didn't want to see another tooth, fang, claw or tentacle for the rest of his life. He didn't want to think of the children inside the Institute, the ones they had saved from the ship, looking out of the windows watching their parents' faces warped into that of monsters, watching their parents being slaughtered, watching their parents slaughtering their friends. Here and there, he thought he spotted Forsaken who bore resemblances to the children he had met briefly, even though it was just as likely his overactive imagination - maybe that one had Madzie's eyes, maybe that one had Duncan's sticking-out ears... it was all just too much to bear.

There weren't many shadowhunters in the Institute at this hour, since most of them were probably out on patrol somewhere in the city. Those left behind were too old or too young, and a skeleton crew just for back-up, and they had already lost half of that on Asmodeus' ship. So when the doors of the Institute creaked open, most of them looked up in surprise, because there shouldn't have been anyone left to fight.  

Simon's heart sank when he saw that it was Madzie and the rest of the children, still in their borrowed pajamas. Worse - behind them stood the older shadowhunter children who had been tasked with helping them settle down, all dressed in pajamas and armed with seraph blades.  

"My children!" the red-haired shadowhunter cried, and Thora Fell took advantage of her distraction to stab her in the chest. 

The children from Asmodeus' ship didn't even blink to see what must have been their main caretaker fall down dead. Their eyes were on the Forsaken. They looked terrified out of their minds, but still they lifted their weapons and stood their ground.

This, Simon thought, was what it meant to be Nephilim, to be chosen by the Angel. 

They moved suddenly, as if they had, as one mind, found the courage to put an end to the waking nightmare. Not all of them wielded seraph blades, but it made no difference against the Forsaken anyway. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that while all the children were definitely better trained than Simon and Rebecca, their main advantage had been the shock factor and their opponents' natural aversion to hurting children, neither of which applied to the Forsaken. 

Oh god, please don't let any of the children die, Simon thought in despair. Especially not by a parent's hand.  

It now became a race not just to stop the Forsaken, but also to protect all the children from the creatures, but the children were having none of it. Simon watched helplessly as Elias was disarmed and lifted of the ground by his throat, and began choking - then started coughing up green smoke.  

"What the hell?" Jace muttered, as the Forsaken that had been holding on to Elias crumpled to the ground.

It soon became clear that Asmodeus had indeed experimented on the children, because normal shadowhunter children did not grow their hands into talons, spew venomous fumes or turn insubstantial when someone tried to chop them with an axe. It was utter chaos, as they now also had to try to stop the other shadowhunters from murdering the children from Asmodeus' ship out of fear, and the children had obviously not expected to be able to do these things and were panicking.

"Leave the children alone!" Catarina shouted. "Focus on the Forsaken!" Nobody was listening - Simon watched Ragnor tackle one shadowhunter to the ground before he could stab Madzie.

"By the Angel," Catarina cried out in frustration, and cut a nearby fire hydrant in half. Everyone was hit by a blast of cold water, which would have gotten anyone's attention.

"Shadowhunters!" Thora's voice was like thunder. "You swore to protect the world against the forces of darkness, not murder children in cold blood!"

That seemed to jolt the adult shadowhunters to their senses, and they turned back to the Forsaken with renewed purpose. The tide of the battle turned, and the last Forsaken was slain within minutes.

Their ordeal over, the younger children were ushered back into the warmth of the Institute, soggy and shivering and crying, while the older children helped with the gruesome task of laying out the dead Forsaken in the yard. There would be time later for mourning. Simon slumped on the steps of the Institute, not having enough energy to care that they were covered with puddles of bloody water and he was about an inch away from severed body parts in every direction. The rest of the adult shadowhunters had already gone out on the streets, where there was still a mass of demons that crawled, slithered and hissed. Oh god, when would this night be over?

"Only a few more hours to sunrise," Raphael said through gritted teeth. "We only need to hold the fort till then." 

"That's it! Sunrise!" Simon gasped and started fumbling at his belt for his stele. "Jace, you're going to have to take cover. In fact, go and grab whatever vamps you can who are fighting the demons now, and just get somewhere indoors quickly." 

"What are you on about?" Jace replied in confusion. 

"Just trust me on this, ok? This will only take me a few minutes, so you'd better run."

Jace hesitated only for a split second before he was gone like The Flash.

"What are you doing?" Raphael frowned.

Simon put everything he could into the rune on his palm. He thought of summer days at camp, days at the beach; the burn that settled into the skin on the really hot days, the eye-watering glare of sunlight reflecting off the sea. 

Simon ran into the middle of the street and put his palm out, and the whole street was immediately flooded with sunlight, as bright as if it were high noon. In the force of the light blasting out from his palm, the demons crumbled into dust with silent screams. 

" _Dios mío_ , Simon," Raphael said in a mixture of admiration and horror when the rune finally burned out, leaving the streets empty of demons and full of stunned downworlders. "That was some rune."

"Are we done?" Simon asked, his head swimming. "Please say we're done." He stumbled, suddenly overcome by bone-deep exhaustion. He felt Raphael grab him by the shoulder, and then his world went dark. 

  

Magnus parried Asmodeus' blow, the downward swing of his sword meeting with the grinding screech of metal on metal. Magnus thrust his sword back at his father, stabbing upward with the other hand with a swiftness that Alec's eye could barely follow, but his blows never even came close to hitting Asmodeus.

It was clear that Magnus was no match for his father, but Alec couldn't get to him - not with the mass of demons surrounding all of them, not with the group of rogue shadowhunters circling Alec. It was all he could do to keep the demons off him and Magnus, while trying not to slip up and die on the blade of one of the rogue shadowhunters.

"Why won't you use your powers, Magnus?" Asmodeus hissed, his voice barely a whisper, but it carried to Alec's ears anyway. "I know you must have something, if you managed to defeat the fear demon. Are you ashamed of it? Your friends have all left you here to die anyway, and the demonspawn would hardly bat an eye at your degradation."

"How do you know I'm not using my powers now?" Magnus challenged. "Pretty sure I'm using superhuman powers of self-restraint not to roll my eyes at your bullshit right now."

There was a deep gash on Magnus' arm, his entire arm stained red with blood. Even with the Nephilim's heightened speed of healing, how much more blood could he stand to lose? Alec could see that Magnus' energy was flagging. Seeing an opening, Asmodeus pushed his advantage and got in close - only to have Magnus pull his father into an odd sort of embrace. Before Asmodeus could react, Magnus leapt away from him, his eyes gleaming, and in one of his nimble hands Alec saw a big tarot card, the Ace of Cups.

"Give me the Cup, boy," Asmodeus said in a low, dangerous voice. 

Magnus looked his father in the eye and smiled. "Fetch!" he called out, and flung the card as hard as he could. It spun out of his hands and into the dark, moving in an unnatural way, like it was heavier than a filmsy piece of card, and everyone watched it hit the dark water and sink like a stone. 

"You-!" Asmodeus started in an incoherent rage. Magnus gave a careless shrug. 

And then Alec watched in horror as Asmodeus ran Magnus through with his sword. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

 

Magnus' eyes had widened in shock, as if a small secret part of him had believed that his father would never truly hurt him. Asmodeus stared dispassionately at Magnus and drew his sword back, and Magnus dropped to his knees like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

Asmodeus raised his arm as if he meant to strike Magnus again, jolting Alec from his daze. Alec was running towards Magnus as fast as he could, his lungs burning and muscles straining. He sent a blast of blue fire at Asmodeus, cursing under his breath when Asmodeus jumped out of the way again - but at least it bought him more time to get to Magnus. 

Alec wished he could raze the ship to the ground, burn Asmodeus and all his followers and demons to ash, but he couldn't - the long night of fighting had drained his magic to dangerously low levels. All he could hope for was that he still had enough to get them off the ship and to safety, and that he could still save Magnus. 

He had to blast another demon out of the way before he got to Magnus. Alec's breath caught as he saw the feeble rise and fall of Magnus' chest, hope blooming in his own. Unfortunately, Asmodeus had recovered from Alec's attack and was swinging his sword high above his head, preparing to strike the both of them down, a crazed fury in his eyes. Alec was forced to use the last bit of his magic to throw up a protective bubble around them.  

"Get away from my son, hellspawn," Asmodeus growled, clawing at the magical barrier. 

"You don't get to call him your son. You are not worthy," Alec said coldly, and took a portable Portal from his pocket. 

He threw it on the ground and disappeared through it without a backward glance, with Magnus cradled in his arms. 

 

Alec had never gotten round to replacing the couch, so he put Magnus down on the carpet, lying on his side, as gently as he could before slumping to the floor himself, his head spinning from his own exhaustion. He tried to breathe slowly and deeply, to let the familiar space of his apartment centre him, the comfort of the wards and his own magical signature grounding him. Every second he wasted fighting his impending unconsciousness was a second Magnus drew nearer to death. 

Once he was sure he wasn't going to black out, he turned to Magnus and checked his vitals - his heart was still beating faintly, and he was drawing rapid shallow, shaky breaths. Medical training kicking in, he examined Magnus' wounds quickly. No blood in his mouth, the entry and exit wounds were both below the diaphragm, so there was a good chance no major organs had been hit. Magnus' spinal cord had been severed completely; Alec felt a pang of deep sorrow at that - Magnus would never walk again. There were some injuries even he, at full power, would not have been able to heal. He put one shaky hand on Magnus, struggling to summon his magic, but it sputtered and faltered like a dying candle. The off-white carpet under Magnus was already soaked red. At this rate, Magnus was going to go into haemorrhagic shock and have a heart attack. 

He fumbled at Magnus' belt for his stele and fought to keep his hands steady as he traced the angel's runes for healing on the shadowhunter's skin. At least he could still do this for Magnus, but even this was a risk. He knew the runes drew their power from the shadowhunter's own reserves, and right now he wasn't sure Magnus could afford more than a handful of healing runes, which were definitely not enough to survive being nearly sliced in half.  

After Alec had completed the third iratze, Magnus gasped and blinked awake.

"Magnus, I need you to stay awake for me, alright?" Alec said gently.

"You can keep me up all night if you want," Magnus replied, his voice barely a whisper, and Alec barked out a short laugh despite himself, despite the situation.

"Alexander... I can't feel my legs."

"Shhh, it's just the pain overloading your nerves. You're going to be alright," Alec said as evenly as he could, the tears welling up in his eyes.

"You're a terrible liar," Magnus whispered back. A long silence, then, "I feel cold."

"I'll get you a blanket," Alec said, stumbling and teetering through a brain-splitting headache to his bedroom to grab blindly at the quilt, then returning to Magnus only to find the shadowhunter's eyes closed again.

"Magnus? Magnus!" Alec shook him gently, but he did not wake again. He was still breathing, but much too shallow and much too fast now, his skin cold and clammy. Even if Alec could get him to a mundane hospital now, it was too late. He tried his magic again - still nothing.

Alec's blood-slicked fingers scrabbled uselessly over the smooth surface of his phone, smearing the bright display with red fingerprints as he dialed Izzy's number with trembling fingers. The phone rang and rang, but Izzy didn't pick up. She was probably just busy fighting, or she had forgotten to charge her phone. Izzy was always forgetting to charge her phone.

Who else could he call? Nobody would care about one shadowhunter boy, much less a Bane, even if he had just risked his life to put the Mortal Cup out of his father's reach. Shadowhunters died all the time. Their days were filled with the stink of blood and metal, and their short lives almost always met violent ends. What was one more dead boy, in the greater scheme of things?

Well. There _was_ one person he could call, Alec thought.

He must be losing his mind. He had known Magnus Bane for all of, what, a week? He couldn't possibly be even considering it.

He had tried it once before, when Max had been murdered by Asmodeus. But Max had been long dead by the time he had thought of this and worked up the courage to call on his infernal father, and honestly, there hadn't even been much of a corpse left when Asmodeus had been done with Max. But Magnus... Magnus was still alive. 

Magnus was a good person. He was selfless, kind, brave, smart, and so full of love to give despite his tragic childhood. He could change the world. Alec knew, or strongly suspected, the price he would have to pay if he asked his father to heal Magnus. But would it really be an unfair price to pay?

Alec had been alive for more than four hundred years. He wouldn't say that there were no bright spots in his life, but some times it just felt like too much to bear - usually in the middle of the night, when he was all alone in the dark. Sure, he had Izzy and Jace, who was almost like a brother, and he loved them dearly, but it wasn't the same. Alec had been alone for so long, it had just become his normal state of being. And that knowledge that this was how it was going to be for him, for ever and ever into all eternity, until everything else and everyone else died, into an endless future where everyone would leave him but he would go on and on...

 

Usually, summoning a demon was a more involved process, especially if it was a Greater Demon like Alec's father. He would have to set up a circle of black candles, use a rowan stick freshly cut by faerie hands to draw a pentagram and a combination of protective runes, to keep the demon at bay, and Chthonic symbols for the summoning. Preferably, he would need other warlocks to anchor the spell, one at each cardinal point. But Magnus was running out of time, and anyway Alec had a feeling that this would be a summoning where protective enchantments would simply be superfluous. 

He pressed his palms together, as if in prayer, and closed his eyes. 

"Pater noster, qui es in infernum, inominatus nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in infernus et in terra. Marbas, who rules all things hidden and secret, who brings the plague and blight, come to me now; I call you as your son, and incur upon myself the responsibility of your summoning."

The room grew colder. It was approaching sunrise soon, and yet the room seemed to be growing darker too. The carpet began to smoke, and the smoke rising had the smell of sulfur. The smoke rose higher and higher, became a veil, and beyond the veil for an instant Alec glimpsed another world. The shape of a monstrous winged lion with three red glowing eyes stepped through; then it twisted and shifted and shrank, coalescing into the shape of a man.

"Father," Alec greeted the demon. 

Marbas had taken the form of an unassuming bald man dressed in a simple but expensive tunic and stockings, as had been the fashion in the 1600s. Alec had seen his (human) father in similar clothes often enough - always busy, always travelling somewhere for days on end for business. Leaving his mother alone in the house with the servants, slowly going mad with suspicions about her husband and the odd things her twin children seemed to be able to do when nobody else was there to see it. 

"Alexander," the demon nodded, and it made Alec's skin crawl to hear him use his full name - only his parents had called him that... and of course now only Magnus ever did that.

"I have a favour to ask of you, Father," Alec said determinedly. 

"Did another of your friends get themselves killed?" the demon said, spotting Magnus' prone form just behind Alec, bleeding out into the carpet. "I have told you before that I cannot raise the dead."

"He's not dead, not yet," Alec said quickly. "Please, if you could restore him to full health..." 

“There is a time,” said Marbas, “when we must all return to live in the houses of our fathers. The demon lords draw our energy from the great fire we fell into, in the great city of Pandemonium, but life - a life freely given, and an immortal life at that - would help me fuel my kingdom. If you want me to heal him, you would have to give your life in exchange. Don't think of it as dying. It would be more like... living with me in hell. Forever."

"Yes. I understand," Alec swallowed, his heart heavy. "I am willing."

Marbas looked at Alec consideringly, then his gaze flickered to Magnus. Alec didn't like the hungry look that came into the demon's eyes. He shifted his body to shield Magnus from his father's view.  

"Are you two in love?" Marbas asked.  

"Love? What? No!" Alec said, startled. This seemed to disappoint Marbas.

"Then why do you want to save him? He's one of the Angel's chosen. Do you think he will ever do anything but despise you, in his heart of hearts?"

"Magnus is not like that. He is a good man," Alec said, not really wanting to go into it with his demon father. "He deserves to live."

"More than you do?" Marbas raised an eyebrow at Alec. Alec stayed silent. 

"Very well. Consider it done. I'll even give you some time to set your affairs in order," Marbas offered. "There is a falling star that will cross the sky six moons from now..."

Alec frowned. "You mean the Comet Honda-Mrkos-Pajdušáková?"

"Whatever," Marbas said impatiently. "I will come again, when it crosses the sky, to claim my price." 

"Why not now?" Alec asked suspiciously.

"I find you intriguing," Marbas shrugged. "I have watched you and your sister occasionally, over the years - do not let it be said that I do not take an interest in my children. And you are a very strange boy, always trying to help others, even the mundanes. The Morning Star alone knows where you learnt all this selflessness - certainly not from either of your parents," Marbas chuckled to himself. 

"Alright," Alec agreed. This stay of execution made him even more uneasy - he had been prepared not to live to see the dawn, but now... 

Marbas smiled enigmatically at him, and disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Behind him, Alec heard Magnus draw a sharp breath. 

"Alexander?" Magnus was already struggling to sit up.

"Magnus! Lie still for a while. How are you feeling?" Alec helped Magnus pull the quilt off and checked him over. 

"Like hell," Magnus coughed. "Hmm, I guess you were right about my legs after all." He wriggled his toes in surprise.

"I _am_ the High Warlock of Brooklyn, you know," Alec said with a small smile.

"So modest, Alexander," Magnus teased.

"Says the person who called himself 'the best shadowhunter of his generation'," Alec retorted. 

"What a pair we make," Magnus grinned. "Thank you, Alexander."

"Any time," Alec smiled. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I simply had to update. We're probably all going to die from 2x18, so I couldn't leave this as unfinished business, could I? ;P
> 
> Anyway... we're almost at the end - just an epilogue to go. But there's going to be a sequel (obviously). Thank you for sticking with me, and thank you for always being so kind with your comments. I swear I wish I could reply to every comment, but some times I can't without spoiling the story!
> 
> Lots of love to y'all! <3


	23. Epilogue

 

 

"What happens now?" 

"You know, that's why I love having Shiloh around, he always asks the most important questions," Magnus observed while he painted another coat of vermillion polish on his nails. "What happens next? Can I still be an organ donor now that I'm a shadowhunter? And my personal favourite so far - if eggplants have nothing to do with eggs, are they really plants?"

"Hey, that was just the one time," Simon said defensively.

"Well, we managed to limit the damage caused by the Forsaken and demons, largely thanks to Simon," Catarina said seriously. "But we're going to have to answer to the Clave - and believe me, the Clave has a lot of questions."

"Asmodeus said the Circle was going to march on Idris in a few weeks' time, but I'm guessing that plan is a no-go, now that he's lost the Mortal Cup, his child army, and his Forsaken army," Simon said.

"Plus, he lost at least half of his shadowhunter followers - possibly more, with all the demons that were on that ship," Catarina agreed.

"Would it be too much to hope that all of them died on that ship, including Asmodeus?" Simon sighed, idly tracing the scar of the sunlight rune on his palm. He looked up and saw all of them looking at him - Catarina and Ragnor with sympathy, and Magnus and Raphael with withering disdain.

"Ok, wishful thinking. Got it," Simon muttered. "What about the Cup though? How do we know Asmodeus hasn't already gone diving for it and retrieved it?"

Raphael snorted. "Because it's not as easy as you think, and the Clave probably beat him to it but still didn't manage to retrieve the Cup. They had the Centurions come over from the Scholomance, you know, and they were out there diving all day for three days straight the day after the battle. You missed them when you were having your little nap."

"Yeah, sorry. When I said I could sleep for a week, I didn't mean to be _that_ literal," Simon said sheepishly. "What's this big deal about Centurions?"

"They are elite shadowhunters - they are scholars, warriors and enforcers of Clave Law," Ragnor explained. "They report directly to the Consul and Inquisitor."

"Ok, so if you guys are the Shadow World NYPD, they are sort of like the shadowhunter FBI," Simon nodded. "Why did the Clave call them in? I mean, don't you guys have a rune for breathing underwater or something? The New York Institute could have handled it."

"Funny you should mention that, but we _don't_ have a rune for breathing underwater," Ragnor grinned. "New assignment for you, Simon."

"The Centurions receive special physical training. I've heard they can hold their breath for a really long time, like pearl divers in the old days," Catarina said.

"Also, the Centurions are absolutely loyal to the Clave," Magnus added cynically.  

"Ok. That's... not good. I'm guessing we want to do our own underwater investigating?" Simon frowned.

"Come up with that rune and we'll talk about it," Magnus agreed. 

Catarina frowned. "No! That'd be incredibly foolhardy. We're not trained to deal with underwater creatures!"

"Wait - what exactly lives in the East and Hudson Rivers? I mean, I'd have thought it was all trash and pollution." 

"There are all sorts of things down there," Ragnor shrugged. "Nixies, mermaids..."

"Mermaids? Mermaids are a thing?" Simon said in bewilderment. 

"At least the demons are probably out of the equation, since the Mortal Instruments are angelic relics," Magnus said musingly. "There's still the giant squids though. I don't think they're demonic, just overgrown."

"Giant squids?! Now you're just pulling my leg. Please tell me you're joking."

"Am I, now?" Magnus arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.

"Well, nixies come under the jurisdiction of the Seelie Court," Catarina said, and Magnus made a face. "At some point we're going to have to request for an audience with the Seelie Queen."

"Count me out," Magnus declared. 

"Magnus, you know the Queen likes you. Much as it pains me to admit this, you can be very charming when you want to be." Catarina wrinkled her nose. 

Magnus threw himself down in his stiff wooden chair dramatically, with the air of someone reclining in a chaise lounge. "Well, I'm due for interrogation under the Mortal Sword in the City of Bones tonight. Maybe I won't survive it, and all my worries will be over."

The mood grew more sombre. "You don't actually have to stay the night, right? They just want you to be there in time for the trial?" Catarina asked.

Magnus shrugged. "I'll bring a book, just in case. Been meaning to catch up on my reading..."

"What grounds would they have to hold you overnight?" Ragnor frowned. 

"The fact that I'm Asmodeus Bane's son?" Magnus shrugged. "Simon here, and his sister, are just lucky they decided that since Barnabas Hale was murdered by Asmodeus, the two of them couldn't possibly be spies." 

"Where is Rebecca anyway?" Catarina asked. "I've been meaning to talk to her and check that she's alright, but I never seem to be able to catch hold of her."

"In my mum's room, talking to my mum," Simon frowned. 

"Again?"

Simon sighed. His sister had withdrawn even more after the battle. Now that their father was dead, they should have been able to return to their normal lives and forget about this whole shadowhunter business, but with the complications of Asmodeus and the angel blood experiments... 

Magnus' phone beeped with a message. He frowned, then smiled. "Hold that thought - I'll be right back."

 

 

"What's this?" Magnus asked as he accepted the folder from Alec.  

"Izzy's report," Alec replied. 

"Why are you handing it to me? It should go directly to the Head of the Institute," Magnus said, puzzled.  

"Yes, but I thought you might want to read it first."

"Why, was it not demon blood that I was injected with as a foetus? Am I going to turn into a giant lizard and destroy Tokyo?"

"What?"

"Never mind. I blame Simon, his nerdiness is catching."

Magnus flipped open the report and scanned it quickly. "I knew I'd called his bluff," Magnus snorted. "What about the children?" 

"All the children's bloodwork came back too, that report is just behind yours. They were injected with Seelie blood or warlock blood, or sometimes a mixture of both. We can't be sure if there will be any long-term effects since the injections have been going on for a couple of years, but Izzy thinks the effects may fade without constant injections. They weren't given the injections as developing foetuses, after all."

"Thank you, Alexander. Mrs Fell is going to Idris tomorrow for her meeting with the Clave, this will be very helpful. Please help us thank Izzy too, for rushing this. She really is amazing."

"She's the best haematologist in New York," Alec shrugged. 

"I'm actually a bit disappointed that I'm just another run-of-the-mill angel-blooded experiment," Magnus said, fiddling with the report. "Here I was, hoping that I could come to you for private tutoring lessons on how to use my mysterious warlock powers," Magnus said with a wink. 

"You don't seem to be particularly relieved that you don't actually have demon blood," Alec said. 

"You know I never really cared, Alexander. Angel blood, demon blood... It doesn't change who I am. I'm not like Asmodeus - I know better than to assume that demon blood makes a person bad. After all, just look at you."

Alec hummed noncommittally. "Izzy thinks it's different, if a baby ingested the demon blood rather than having the demon blood being part of his or her heritage," Alec explained. "She has a theory that it would be like poison in the system. It'd probably kill the baby, or drive it mad, warp it somehow."

"Let's hope we don't have any opportunities to test her theory," Magnus said.

"It's unlikely, yes," Alec agreed, and they lapsed into an awkward silence. 

Magnus fidgeted with one of his rings. The thing was, Magnus was suddenly unsure of where he stood with Alexander Lightwood. There had been some flirting and mutual interest, but things were suddenly too intense too quickly. Then there had been the issue of Alec pulling him off the ship half-dead, and Magnus' fuzzy memories of being really badly hurt - just a simple thank you seemed rather inadequate when he basically owed his life to Alec. Magnus hadn't even told anyone else about his father running him through with his sword. Magnus found himself wanting to go back to old habits of being flippant when things got too serious.  

"Alexander, are you finally going to agree to go on a date with me now that the world as we know it is not in any immediate peril? Although, let's be honest - I think our first date might actually have been that night I stayed over to help you sort out potion ingredients."

Alec grinned and ducked his head. "Well, I did promise to go on a date with you," he said a little shyly.  

"How about Friday? I know a great Ethiopian place," Magnus suggested, fully expecting Alec to shoot him down awkwardly and flee, as he always did. After all, the warlock literally had eternity to play hard-to-get.  

"How about now?" Alec asked impulsively.

"Now?" Magnus looked up, surprised and pleased. "Sure."

Screw the Clave and their stupid investigation. Tonight, he was going to be a normal boy and go out on a date with his insanely gorgeous crush, and maybe finally get to steal a goodnight kiss. Everything else would just have to wait. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. 2x18 happened, you see, and I am writing this from beyond the grave right now XD
> 
> **Update:** The sequel to this work has been posted :)


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